viynl origami

The record spins, previously unplayed. It scratches so hard that you wonder if your diamond split.

Origami of viynl.

You thought you knew these songs; but they sting you: hard enough that tears of black wax fall from your ducts.


A hunchback beast prostrated before the barren tree. A white skeleton of a trunk. Threadbare yet beholden. Wishing to jump into the river.

You feel hungry.

You find yourself in a parking lot, on a rowboat. The sun beating. You have three choices:

1. The black asphalt that draws the sun into you. Nagual.

2. The white side path that reflects the sun onto you. Tonal.

3. Those yellow dividing lines, too thin in which to seek refuge; but, meant to hold you between. Intent.

In suspense, as a harp scales up; a piano scales down.


The thin woman told you, “I love the heat. I sit. I play my phone game. I work my word search book. I stand up and walk. Then, I do it all over.”

You run. You age. You sit. You listen.

I remember the purple grass.

Author: writtencasey

I am fascinated by the scientific endeavor and I read about or engage with those processes as much as possible. I am a compulsive reader and writer. With a background in anthropology and as an arm-chair/backyard scientist, I hope to improve my writing skills and learn about any areas of weakness or misunderstanding in my analytic skills. I am excited to share. Thank you for spending time here. Please reach out if you are so inclined. I'd be excited to hear from you.

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