Work > 2023

not liking my posts is like seeing me lying in the street covered in blood and you just keep walking

Four horsemen of the pinkpocalypse (me, me, me, and me)

Big buried thing

I didn't know they still did this

Big strong alien man picks me up in his UFO past curfew

I have begun practicing unknowing because I know now that knowing is a bad bad thing, that's what I've knowed. I won't look and you cant make me look and I don't even know this anymore.

In class they said there'd be guts and blood and stuff, but there's absolutely nothing worthwhile in here.

burn-in

Please Mr Darcy Mink! Pathologize me!

I'm counting skittles in this one

Thirteen

Glitter baby 3: the truest glitter baby of all the glitter babies that have ever glitter babed

Glitter baby 2: a disproof of inertia

Glitter baby 1

And here's another thing to learn that's the same thing again, so obvious and obtuse I'm sure

A little self-reflection

During the pinkpocalypse, a reconfiguration of pinkparticles

Moments before the pinkpocalypse

The new flesh seems plush and soft like felt, it looks like sesame street

If this mink had molars, it doesn't anymore

Autominkotic minksphyxiation

Mink vivisection

I just wanna be me again

Something about metaphysical buccal fat removal

I trust I'll wake up tomorrow because mom and dad said I would and if I don't at least they'll be in the next room over.

Watching the carpet for something moving, under close examination I discover there are crumbs embedded so deep within that they are now inseparable.

I can hear you.

I'm scared to look because I fear there is nothing to know, or if there is something to be known it's the type of thing that I'd rather not know.

pool practice #3

pool practice #2

pool practice #1

I look in the mirror and grandma's mink looks back

I beat trip fontaine mink into the floor until he is a minky pulp.

Oh no! Miss Mink is pregnant... out of wedlock!

My mink hand grips yours and we walk off into the sunset

Burning with embarrassment

The first apocalypse, the tiny one where mom sends you to your room. One of many to come.

Mom and dad called this birthmark the map of texas, but now it's morphed into something else. Just a tan oblong splotch, nothing allegorical about it anymore.

Saying goodbye to Mr Toaster: he was a good friend and an even better lover

I can't get mail out of the mailbox