writings

thoughts and musing

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One Way

08 April2024

I grew up close to the road, without a fence separating my house from the road or my next-door neighbours. I also know too well how this closeness renders privacy a bit unneeded. As it is a one-way drive, you are too open to the road that it knows your possible option, perhaps only possible. Life itself is a one-way road; if we can get out of it in the end, we'll see how little we’ve lived.

I have several times turned to the trees, and they sent me to the grass. The grass has several times also directed me to the dust raised from the earth, carried in the air, and offloaded in a faraway land, except...

Un “-” known  -for CIrcA X aLfredo Jaar's "Tonight no Poetry will serve

November, 2023

In “-“ hale 

I suppose between this prefix and its tactile stem there is a new world. Like what happens between the last moment of an extremely bent tree and its snapping?

What lives in the neglected fragment of life before these vowels or consonants steals enough life from you?  That little moment before...