standing out

the day trickles to an end. its dark out now. seems a bit too early. a disappointment. it was a gray day. dishes cleaned. hydrated. everything in its place. waiting for the world to turn. eventually it'll bring good fortune.

good fortune. in the land of make believe we make our own bread.

joo Lie

and yet, is he content? it is a fluctuating state. the camera pulling in and out of focus. the attention of the viewer waxing and waning. the message teetering between non and sense. as our hero steps forth into the abyss of JULY and sees not one but many paths each one dangerous, bland, time consuming and in their own ways deviously worthwhile he gasps- spins about and the world disappears- a spiraling display of melded ideas and opportunities all whizzing about him like a kaleidoscope of time and space. stop.

two whiskeys on the rocks-
a pint of cheap beer-
now lose your wallet.

slowing to a stop the world refocuses in front of him as he stumbles down the closest path.