Submissions by isoyakumiko

We tell big dark truths and little white lies. We surprise ourselves and prove other people right. We sing corrupted songs and scream beautiful prose. We mark, and erase, and are marked and erased.
We remember. We swear we’ll never forget. We get bored, distracted, captivated, excited, burnt out, and bored. We forget. We conceal, we display; we hide in plain sight. We run to and we run from and we wander and we dance and we stumble and we sometimes try to stand still, just to watch the world zoom by and try to moderate the head-rush of it all, whether it’s gleaming with sparkles dripping...

Broken people painting, to them, whole pictures
which are all messy parts of the same important story,
picture parts all based on limited vision but this common inherent feeling of ‘greater’
and elusive knowledge of ‘whole’,
almost a nostalgia of a foreshadowing sort.
See, it seems sparked by the collective memory, remembrance of things they've never done, and homesickness for places they've never been.
And these nevers are not for lack of trying. These nevers are due to, on the part of the memories and places, lack of existence.
And this nonexistence is not for...