March 4 Ten people ill after taking heroin, police say

The dumbing down continues as we forget what numbers mean and nod silently, waiting to be told to stop.

Once, when we were young, one jug of water was too wet, so I added sand to make mud and later that year you made me a vase out of the mud that I couldn't put water in.

The truth is always less interesting than the possibility that it's actually a lie.

As we grow more creased and bent truth and lies blur and fade until we are alone, free of others. We are less relevant now, more than ever, or perhaps our relevance has turned inwards.

The kiln still heats up hotter than my oven, hotter than my heart, and if we crawled in together we'd melt into one another. 

It's tempting some days


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