by orchaeus | May 27, 2024 | Status Update
“Not only was I not measuring you, if anything was being measured at all, you were the »what I measured against — not ‘that which I evaluated’.” — inframation
by orchaeus | May 27, 2024 | Status Update
Carry my dead body. If you would sing a song made there. Unpretentous. Childlike. Collect ten or twenty thousand dead bees. And in the pit in which you place my corpse. Cover me with these. I didn’t come from the world or for the world. I died long before I was...
by orchaeus | May 27, 2024 | Status Update
There is no me wanting to write, and this unme can’t unhelp itself right now, and every other time is simply a fiction of futures unrecognized, dusty with bugs, distant, and tasty as the fingerprint of a famous investigator
by orchaeus | May 27, 2024 | Status Update
There used to be a place called Vietnam. Where numbers had weapons called soldiers. And guns had wings called repercussions. Vietnam was eventually apprehended by mathematicians.
by orchaeus | May 27, 2024 | Status Update
Because I could never actually escape the store. And money was after me like a dragon licking an icicle.
