To Sleep–Perchance to Scream

Ronaldo Field Note 127

Ronaldo was uncertain if he ever assembled himself only to immediately reassemble all the bits and bobbles a moment later.…

A solitary fiddlehead shot through the vast expanse of abject nothingness until the nothingness was no more. Something has arrived.…

The dream spit a black hole into the ether. Ronaldo grew around the dying star, struggling to contain it without…

In a year where the majority of us are nestling our germ holes away from view, the time is almost…

Ronaldo began as he always did. As a hand. One would look upon him and assume he pulled himself together…

I’ve crafted (then rejected) numerous blog posts, unsure why I couldn’t commit to any of my words. Social isolation and…

Let’s pour one out all the phrases I’ve had to cull from my vernacular, shall we?