
current view: cocktails w/ old & new friends in apt on apt terrace across from WTC1
April 30, 2017 at 07:09PM
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../melody in chaos
current view: cocktails w/ old & new friends in apt on apt terrace across from WTC1
April 30, 2017 at 07:09PM
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Any microbiologist worth the weight of their microbiota also washes their hands before – not just after…
— ../westy (@westyreflector) April 30, 2017
April 30, 2017 at 05:38PM
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Spent entire dream watching two nameless men dismantle six stories of scaffolding across an eighty-foot-wide apartment building. They worked for the most part in silence, communicating with hand gestures punctuated by the occasional “¡Mira!” “¡Cuidado!” or “¡Yo!”
The scaffolding was made of equal parts silk and metal. The men used the silk to climb up and down, raveling and unraveling themselves in an aerial silk performance to move in all directions.…
continued...
“Don’t look back, kid.”
April 29, 2017 at 05:41PM
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bonjour, vendredi soir. bonne nuit, semaine.
April 28, 2017 at 07:21PM
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Dream Journal 04.26-04.27
“Full Archer Jacket”
I paratroop onto a Chatsworth, CA, warehouse rooftop w/ another soldier. We recon with a tiny drone to find rebel militant locations in the building. They have dug an ICBM silo under the warehouse. We are here to shut it down.
We spelunk into the building through a busted skylight, pass all sorts of people, none of whom concern themselves with us.…
continued...
(Ralph Kramden can’t remove a ring from his finger).
Ralph: We got any lard laying around here?
Alice: Yeah, about 300 pounds.
April 26, 2017 at 08:53PM
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I’m the star of a reality show called “Surfin’ The Pole” where I tour the North Atlantic on a surfboard. One episode had me find a hidden river that led away from the ocean and took me through quaint Finnish towns.
The river was the de facto Main Street through all the towns, and I waved at people and stopped for food along the way, all the while never leaving my surfboard.…
continued...
drawing-in-process to accompany a piece about a phone call w/ Hunter S. Thompson I had as an intern at Rolling Stone in ’92
April 25, 2017 at 01:55PM
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Suburban Supermarket
(à la Harris Teeter or Piggly Wiggly)
I’m talking to my mother in the beer section, sitting on the floor with my back against a fridge door, looking up at her. Cases of beer piled high in the aisle lend us some privacy. I’m beyond agitated.
“All the meat used to convict these people had the same date,” I tremble and point off to my right.…
continued...
Peripheral sidewalk terror today: Recognizing the melody of a whistle, closing in from behind, as a slowed "I Think We're Alone Now."
— ../westy (@westyreflector) April 24, 2017
April 24, 2017 at 02:49PM
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just met a woman allergic to the smell of celery salt. she's not allergic to celery or salt, just the smell of celery salt.
— ../westy (@westyreflector) April 23, 2017
April 22, 2017 at 11:30PM
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sat(noton)ur(butt)day
— ../westy (@westyreflector) April 22, 2017
April 22, 2017 at 11:38AM
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Communication is a form of respiration.
“You want to know what I think…?” is the same as asking, “You want to know how I breathe…?”
Resonant, meaningful discourse flows as a meditation, where we think on inhale and communicate on exhale. Thinking, writing, and speaking — these mirror different stages of breathing, and together form a respiratory cycle.…
continued...
analog truth, typos make
April 20, 2017 at 08:26PM
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superfund site scavenger (egret)
April 19, 2017 at 07:07PM
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100% of people who believe animals teach us nothing peel their bananas from the stem end
— ../westy (@westyreflector) April 19, 2017
April 19, 2017 at 03:03PM
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superfund site snuggles
April 18, 2017 at 05:53PM
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facing tuesday
April 18, 2017 at 11:54AM
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saw sparks
April 17, 2017 at 07:02PM
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