by Ashley Opheim
I resist tweeting and keep the following thought to myself: In industrial meadows we are future gardens made of heart nectar.
The average human being thinks somewhere between 7,000-50,000 thoughts a day.
How many thoughts does the Dalai Lama have a day? How many thoughts does Miley Cyrus have a day? What does this tell us about thinking?
How does one classify a thought?
Do you think a thought, or does a thought think you?
I don’t want to hear what I’m thinking. I don’t want to think what I’m hearing.
I put cinnamon oil behind my ear.
It burns my skin, but I do it again and again.
By accident, I create a wound.
I put amber dust on my wrists in the bathroom.
Someone upstairs is jumping up and down a lot.
The government is on strike, or something unbelievable like that.
I dream that I climb a pyramid only to find a mall with a shitty food court at the top.
I order a coffee.
I dream about a girl who steals my lovers’ heart with nothing but her eyes,
which are like mine but not.
She is singing
‘There was a calming but it’s gone’ over and over again.
I am here with the fruit flies.
I am creating mansions made of orange rinds for the fruit flies.
I am writing to avoid feeling awkward.
Don’t ask me about my online behavior,
it is a sensitive issue.
It plays a part in my samsara, which I am trying to escape.
Beginnings are just as delicate as endings.
I will live through every moment because I have to, because it is necessary for my survival.
A girl walks by me on the street carrying a birdcage with nothing inside of it.
I imagine a 360-degree rainbow surrounding my body.
I walk by flowers without noting how vivid their colours are.
I walk through a field in the middle of the city.
I walk by flowers without noting how vivid their colours are,
where someone has knocked over two bee hives by some white flowers.
Endings are just as delicate as beginnings.
Ashley Opheim called us from Montreal, Quebec.
More about Ashley.
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