Essay · Mental Health · Rudimentary Philosophy

Inkwell Reflections for Miss Dickinson

White dress white dress how softly compressed prismatic coordinates printed over a spectrum of threads matching sheets covering the little table and chairs in the upper room of consciousness. White—no color or all the colors at once? All the bright or all the dark the stark dark hair and the pale face pale arms pale… Continue reading Inkwell Reflections for Miss Dickinson

Essay · Rudimentary Philosophy

Attic

All day I have been hearing jazz faintly playing in my room. It does not seep through the wall nor does it rise from the chambers below. The riffs are generated within my mind. My ears glimpse phantom sound waves—unseen, invisible. Their nonexistence will startle me any longer. For I am a music box of… Continue reading Attic