On a once-precious, still-precious Saturday afternoon I sit and remember us... The pressure I applied to capture those days only served to crush them As though I were a cup emptying itself with sheer eagerness

We are the change in initial conditions. We are the Chaos, and the universe will know our name.

In a brightly-lit office building, glares from both colleagues and halogen lamps try to paint me in a manner that I flat-out refuse. A demanding, psuedo-authoritarian voice calls out for attention; mine,