dope

before and after nothingness simplicity is not so simple. black blue greys to brown to blurred forms, images taken on a muddy potato no flash and stark. that one guy who ordered his tea disciple to kill himself cause he got too fancy and that definitely isn’t wabi-sabi. describing wabi-sabi and not feeling it two tatami mats away at a hare’s hair length of a breath is anything but treachery to that which is so treacherous. my light blue grey mugs holding kurd or sleepytime tea have no makes name but i can’t figure out whether they exist before or after nothingness. i got them from big w. they only exist during their use. painted to make fake worn earthenware, beige at the edges to confer fake repeated usage. i have two mugs to my name but that is the only number of mugs one person can really need, unless someone comes over you can always wash the dirty one in the sink and contemplate how lucky you are to have a friend at all. i drink sleepytime tea as soon as i wake up and wish for dreamless sleeps and sediment in the corner of my eyes. simplicity requires strength whenever it is found. ostentations of the self are all i wish to shed by multiple invitations and my economy of means stay clean and never sterilised. becoming inconspicuous to myself by way of quiet noticings, deleting all my old photographs.

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