“It depends how aware you are.” by Julia in F’s kitchen

Saturday August 19, 2017
5 minutes
Lennon on Lennon
edited by Jeff Burger

walking eyes ground walking walking
don’t stop moving eyes ground further further

count cracks sidewalk busted bruised gum gum gum somebody’s bad decision spit shit cigarette butt

empty sky sun alone head no where near the clouds but in them with them nothing around

five dollar bill twenty cigarette butt shopping list bus pass toothpick

hands stuffed into jeans pockets bursting ripped and bleeding bang into the cyclist crossing chipped lips

shuffling pushing one foot next foot walking running listen for the lights to change beep beep at your own risk

seagulls pigeons balloon string toilet paper hat full of coins people people everywhere there here up down

“oyster” by Sasha at her kitchen table

Saturday November 15, 2014
5 minutes
from a London Transport card

I can see it in your eyes – the fatigue, the woods, heavy on your lids like shadow. You roll a cigarette. You don’t light it. You just hold it, using it like an orchestral conductor. I catch you watching yourself move, in the mirror. When we go out to the store for eggplant and bread, you wrap a scarf high on your face. “Ready for battle,” you say. I can see it in your eyes – it’s better here, but it’s not the best, you’re still dancing in the clouds, high above me, my feet glued to the sidewalk, but moving.

“set yourself on fire” by Sasha at her kitchen table

Tuesday May 13, 2014
5 minutes
Your Ex-Lover Is Dead

Sometimes you look at me and say, “I saw her again.” I know who you’re talking about. You’re talking about the one, in the mirror, with the furrowed brow. “It’s okay,” I tell you. “She’ll be gone soon.” But this time she doesn’t go. She stays. She sets up camp in the linen cupboard. You refuse to wash. You refuse to eat. I call you mother. “I’m worried,” I say. “You two are too co-dependant,” she tells me and calls the Institute to see if they have space for you. You’ll be gone for a few weeks and then you’ll return, “tuned up”. That’s what you say, like you’re a bike in the spring. “Just went in for my tune up!” When you get back, you’re always so happy it’s almost tinny. It’s almost annoying. “Make up your mind!” You tell me, rolling a cigarette. You made friends with a man there named Todd, who carries drum and papers, and tells you that the way to free yourself of yourself is to let go of all your attachments. “The thing I’m most attached to is you,” you say, inhaling deeply.

“WHeat=” by Julia on the 506 going east

Friday January 10, 2014
5 minutes
from building graffiti on college street

It’s been 7 years since I’ve touched wheat. You’re laughing. I get it. You think it’s impossible to do. You think I’m a fool for even doing it. “What am I missing out on!” Haha. Joke’s on you. I haven’t touched wheat and I am living a better life because of it. I think people forget how good their bodies were and just assume they are the way they were meant to be. Just not so. I was a real pill when I first started. It was worse than quitting smoking..I know this because I also haven’t touched a cigarette in 7 years, but that’s obviously for a different story. I couldn’t leave the house without yelling at someone, I couldn’t stay inside the house without almost ordering pizza. It was a real nightmare and I was not willing. It took about two years before I was willing. Hell, most days, I’m still not willing. I just keep with the routine. You know what’s actually funny? You’re the laughing type so I can presume you feel you’re missing something in this story that most other stories give you. I’m not even allergic to it. No laughter. Well I stand corrected. That was not a joke, I guess, so. But when I decide something, I stick to it. I also was the one who tagged that building! I made up my mind about graffitiing the tallest building on my street. And I did it.

“Well, we’ve since learned” by Julia on her couch

Thursday, May 30, 2013
5 minutes
rebar: modern food cookbook
Audrey Alsterberg and Wanda Urbanowicz

His name was Blake and hers was Cookie. Cookie had a slightly lazy left eye, but she made up for it with a whole ton of sass and altruistic generosity. Blake enjoyed a good laugh, a good bowl of mint chocolate chip ice cream, and a good handshake. When the two of them smoked, they shared the same cigarette so it would go by faster and they could spend the rest of the time on lunch, or on break, making out wildly like horny teenagers at a homecoming football game. Blake seemed to love everything about Cookie and she loved everything about Blake. Even his inability to leave pre-arranged floral table decorations alone without re-setting the entire thing. Even his need to ask every person within a two chair radius if they were “enjoying the weather” when it was minus one billion outside as if it were a funny joke. Cookie taught Blake how to be civil in front of other people, especially her family, and Blake taught Cookie that leaving the empty mustard container in the refrigerator was a bad idea.