Hi-Q: welterweight
cicada shell
hollowed like a melon
rinds
i made a stream of consciousness zine last night
rough idea to "finished product", without any pre-writing, in one go
it resulted in a feeling i've been chasing since a loud, noisy, atonal jam freakout in high school: a creative emptiness as if a vessel had been poured out
like the brain could exhale
only to fill again, refreshed
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