The Naked and the Mad

“You can think clearly only with your clothes on.” ~Margaret Atwood Somewhere down the evolutionary hill, or up the vertigo inducing precipice if you rather have that, we lost the ability of thinking clearly in our birthday panoply. The moments are fraught with some latent reflex the instant we unsheathe our limbs. A yearning, a […]

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Fungus on the Filter

The opposite of time is memories. Memories, a span with no beginning, no end, no periods, only nebulous swaths of consciousness. Memories don’t tumble terminally like the sand in an hourglass. Or tick away with the finality of the arms of a clock: thud, thud, thud…. They are like the fungus on the filter of […]

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