YuHeng's blog

where r u. abbreviations remind me of Cummings and Debussy. Or short forms. Debussy and Cummings.

Saturday off work, how good it feels when the sun is still blistering. I’m thinking about autumn–the warm shades pressed under sleep.

I’m lying on the sofa, thinking about nothing in particular but only the grass, the sun, the evening, the moon, the waters, and how everything feels just right, not too much or too little of whatever there is to feel. Now I’m looking out the window. The trees look so much more voluptuous under the green sun. The dog looks at me. I walk her.

Do clouds yawn?

just as how writing is a method of omission, so too do i think that life is a business of omission, of getting rid of the inessential. But is life writing, or writing life. I don’t know, but its fun.

The anger…

becomes sadness.

And now, happiness.

i have summer within me, where i go I carry the grass that wilts and stabs faces ,