Sasha and Nik 4x5 love land.

Sasha is in tech pan and old great film with a small IR range

and nik delta 100 both developed with Xtol

some days you get to be your self, most days you don't. you just dream about it, silence

then with acute tact, a quick comment among the superfluous inputs we find ourselves surrounded by.

The intent of such an outbreak is debatable and changes with the circumstance and yet to maintain the balance it must be done

voice no matter the volume no matter the relentlessness, it is all we have.

Eulogy For Timbob The Loser

Timbob the loser couldn't be reached through usual frequencies
His phone number changed weekly
He had ID once

Timbob canon-balled through social situations
He had bad breath
He told the best stories

Timbob was the one you thought about
He felt it all more, even through
His misguided beard

Timbob owned more wallets in his life than dollars
He had even more nights of legendary stature
He had even less days

Timbob is the spirit you'll find in the smell of fast food
His smile in the dirty laundry
His anger in the clean sink

Timbob got away with it because Timbob was Timbob
He knew everyone knew
He had already figured it out

Timbob died because everyone let his track fade out
He let the horse ride itself
He gave his last bud to a bum

Timbob didn't have much when he died
He had lost almost everything
He still might lose more

Timbob will be remembered as the loser to us all
He will be the ghost that gets us out of bed twenty minutes late
He will tell us to go ahead and try it

Timbob will make a great case
He will be there if/when
We lose it all and become big losers too

Allegory: Light Climb

The man crouched beneath the shadow of the great building.  Looking up, he perceived the windows diminishing in size.  He knew though that as he climbed he would not get smaller.  Rather he would grow and eventually erupt.  His ropes assembled, his beanie on his head, his mittens pulled tight, he took one more look.  This was the last time he would look up at such a sight, with nothing below him.  He would always be looking in, but not from far away.  When his palm grabbed the first hold, his blood rushed.  It hid in the corners of his body.  It covered up in the darkest rooms of his chest.  Someone else's brain got his body up onto the building.  Some other fuel sparked his steps.  Now those diminishing in size were the ones below him.  He could feel himself becoming wide and immense, so much so that when he falls, he is still on the ground and higher than the building.

what happens when you leave your bike locked up below the myrtle jmz?  

see below for answer