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Damp, cold, aging walls. Unidentifiable echoes. Feeling like you’re being swallowed by a worm. An urban cave, I guess. One near my house has train tracks — I love the tame thrill of having a locomotive run over me.
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On my walk home from work at night, I pass it. I look into the church and see lights on inside and wonder who is up so late working on research or simply passing the time behind unknown walls. I wish to pass through the iron gates like a phantom in the night and idle as the stars die in my wake; never moving, never ceasing. Insomniacal practice. Haunting those who dare to grow their mind when it should be maintenancing in slumber. I look on with envy as the wisps remind me the gates are there for a reason, and my flesh is not permeable.
The towering architecture only looms over me to press it in.
I pass it and think of what I could have been.
Jan 28, 2025
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bar bathrooms, guest bedroom, rooftops, around the corner, empty alleys, pantries, take your pick
Mar 30, 2024
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It’s like peering into someone‘s apartment, you want to look out of curiosity but feel like it’s invasive
Apr 12, 2024
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