emo human

      Last night I dreamed that I was walking on a beach. The ocean, to my left. The white dunes, to my right. The sun was hidden and the whole sky was grey. The horizon was imperceptible. The sand was deep and soft. Every footstep sunk into a hole, but I didn’t look down. I just kept walking, not sure where to, and yet I was determined to continue. Then I saw you. Blurred, at first. Like looking through a camera lens that needs to be adjusted. You were wearing a white shirt with buttons. The wind was blowing and you blended in with the dunes. Even though you seemed a great distance away, I was approaching you, suddenly. You lifted me into your arms and spun me around, my arms clasping tightly around your shoulders. You spun me so well that my feet left the ground, and the wind began to blow. We were spinning in the wind, by the white dunes and the grey sea, and we became invisible. You set me down on the sand again, but I didn’t let go. The grey and white had twisted all around us lik

       I spend hours in front of my computer, trying to tell you stuff, all sorts of stuff, as if my heart was a great big coal mine and every day I go in there with my pick axe in search of jewels. It’s really hard work, and it hurts a lot. But every morning, I wake up more excited than the day before to grab my pick axe and get back to work. And what really boggles my mind is that I feel like I’m growing less wise as I age. The more jewels that I uncover, the more out of reach the concept of completion seems to me, because every jewel is more complex, more dazzling than the last. Sometimes I think, “What’s the point?! Who can keep this going, when the fruits of my labor will tomorrow run like sand through my fingers?” But that’s the thing. The deeper I dig, the more free I become, because what I thought was absolute and finite, is actually fluid and dynamic. The cavern is always expanding.        This work is hard, but there is no other work that could ensnare me like sitting here n