( me )

We resent the exiguities of modern life, yet we would not forswear the least part of it; no, not even doors that open of themselves.

( via / via )

"I am a messenger who will bring back word..."

“Snow

If we, as we are, are dust, and dust, as it will, rises,
Then we will rise, and recongregate
In the wind, in the cloud, and be their issue,

Things in a fall in a world of fall, and slip
Through the spiked branches and snapped joints of the evergreens,
White ants, white ants and the little ribs.”

—Charles Wright

🍂 dry season .. my remix 🍂.

The fight is in the press of exoskeleta, nor their hapless occupants.

"Cortez On Jupiter is the story of graffiti artist Pablo Cortez’ career progression from Basquiat-esque guerrilla muralist in 2020s LA via a staggered Bester-like plot to a weightless take on Jackson Pollock on in orbit above the Great Red Spot."