Hello, contact via w.a.s.t.e @ owenjgvaughan@gmail.com ▸--◀︎◁ ❈✵✧※❈✵✧※❈✵✧※❈✵✧※❈✵✧※❈✵✧※❈✵✧※❈✵✧※❈✵✧※❈✵✧※❈✵✧※❈✵✧※❈✵✧※❈✵✧※❈✵✧※❈✵✧※❈✵✧※❈✵✧※❈✵✧※❈✵✧※❈✵✧※❈✵ The two of them were neighbors and each night, through the windows, they watched each other look at each other pretending not to look at one another. One of those things where both of those people don’t mind themselves on display. The curtains were too short so they were best left to expose. They wanted to be seen reading before sleep and cooking before eating. Then one of them, that one on the left when walking east, became a farmer just south of the crowds growing legumes. Not until time did one of them see the other one of them once again. It was at one long bench that stretched on a number of blocks, getting longer as they walked by. Members sitting and reading one long book that got longer as they continued reading. It was something about Elvis and the non-vernacular and some kind of return to form. At the end of the book, the one found the other at the last word which was “photosynthetic.” ❈✵✧※❈✵✧※❈✵✧※❈✵✧※❈✵✧※❈✵✧※❈✵✧※❈✵✧※❈✵✧※❈✵✧※❈✵✧※❈✵✧※❈✵✧※❈✵✧※❈✵✧※❈✵✧※❈✵✧※❈✵✧※❈✵✧※❈✵✧※❈✵✧※❈✵ 10.1.24 ➢ it's all anticipatory. have been making so many plans. what's happening now? gett-in antsy. we should plan this trip to detroit. one more proleptic action. more sedentary this afternoon. it's beginning to cool off. was windy, but not in a continuous stream of wind after wind. it would pause as much as it played with the chorus of leaves signaling this repetition. gotta be the loveliest sound ar☺︎und. 9.24.24 ➢ the cello is the most avian instrument. what makes you feel more alive than a chance encounter with a friend? i was walking back home after returning (walking from returning mmmm) my very late book yesterday evening, when the streetlights came on. those globes are a landmark of this town and a landmark of my heart and memory. things are settling into place, i hope. 9.17.24 ➢ things have become more wayward now than i've ever before experienced. feeling such extremes as this is not my MO. deeply disconcerting. there's this shifting of intense anger and emotion in absence, and sympathy in presence. these presences, although they have been brief and insecure, make my diatribes dissolve. then i am thrown back into absence where they bubble again. is this dissolve a product of fear? of love? of understanding? prince said, "i love you more than when you were mine", but i know you less. 9.15.24 ➢ listened to the second half of 'on the beach' on the stoop. always a solemn comfort. have enjoyed sitting and chatting on those front steps these past few nights. it's a more dynamic scene, and i get a certain pleasure from being perceived there, as opposed to the more clandestine balcony above. sat and smoked one of, what were apparently mao's favorite cigarettes, with neil. chunghwas. pack was a gift from joe and his travels. they smell like plums. i'm happy he's here again. we should discuss plans for these next six months. i'll text him about coffee/lunch tomorrow. 9.12.24 ➢ bad sleep, spose i'm not used to being next to you again. i still liked it. small tomatoes, waking you up is frustration and pleasure. i'd forgotten that. the morning met the afternoon with defined dissonance, running around the truth. am i made to infer or to ignore? such maneuvering makes one tired. the shortest distance between two points is in a straight line.