Muddy.
Something swishing in the marsh.
A screenprint, a blur.
A candle, a sandwich.
The in-between moments of life become the real moments you live for, within the post-prandial lull of the oncoming evening inside your apartment, all blunts and old New Yorker mags. Somehow a one-minute sound on SoundCloud can, during its unfolding, enfold you into what you want to become. The better self, without the luggage. Without the who, or the what. Just stepping into the river twice, bravely.
More about: fri珍
