coal
here is a story of coal begun as a pair. two abstractions filtered by a stream. the church and the eye elements not gilded. a spider nibbles the upper arm. the paired data is silk too.
coals are a pair of salted winds. in this current vacuum, there is only gesture. i have a feeling the feeling is better than kicking a soccer ball perfectly. i am not focused at all. i try not to hate but tony robbins is responsible for this gesture centricity.
this cannot be connected. in every room, we are sixteen but not mentally. we talk knowing the future and how we are not speaking now and i still don’t like myself.
the difference is that i know. the penguins too do not matter but are still dying.
i hate money. i can’t stop trying to make money. it comes in at 88% of its former value. my father keeps trying to convince me to buy him a plane ticket. i cant afford it. i hate diaries. i am writing a diary now. it is about god being two sisters, young.
mason gates is a poet living in Porto.