Cubicle Existentialism

When did anomie become your Beelzebub? When did the nihilistic shadows in your mind take the shape of an archaic demon? Your God became a substitution for your art, a depthless void to pour your love out to. He is not listening. Perhaps he never was.  You constructed a framework to systemize the spiritual behaviors … Continue reading “Cubicle Existentialism”

Glass House

When I was young, I remember being enraptured by the idea of living in a glass house. I imagined erecting my glass home deep in the woods, able to view the going-ons of nature intimately while being safe from the elements. It need only be a single room, blending in with the environment rather than breaking … Continue reading “Glass House”

The Persimmon

The steam wafting off my tea was beginning to lessen before I finally worked up the courage to ask about the sullen mass on the counter. Its skin was blistered and pocketed, its once vibrant orange reduced to a dingy bronze. I inquired after it casually, careful to keep my voice level and slightly disinterested. … Continue reading “The Persimmon”

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