“Today I wrote nothing,” Kafka repeated in his diaries.

The man begins to lazily browse through aisles, picking up several packages of processed foods, all of which contain Red 40 and a sodium content above 280mg per serving.

Hands on the walls, head to the floor. Hands on my head, battery on the floor.

Unmistakably, I am about to throw up.

To be the director is to rub the ego until it is pleased.

we can   he says   another time   I say   there is no other time

I receive an email asking to do a video on women's rights. It would be for women by women. It would be performed by pussy.

We are smart-to-smart and not talking about ourselves, unless calling each other a machine.

I say I am looking forward to seeing him by sending an image of a partly-opened mouth.
 

One man's reschedule is another man's ringtone alert for annoyance.

I am looking to rewatch English filmmaker John Smith's 1975 piece, "Associations."
By the time I have typed only "john sm into the search bar, YouTube begins to predict that I may be looking for john smith pocahontas.

A woman is a table on which one lays out a feast of metaphors.

I end myself with much love always.

Multiple partners, smoking, early age of sexual intercourse, and a poor immune system may contribute.

"Is it okay if I pray for you?" the woman asks me.

Marina says the two questions an artist should always be asking are when to start working and how to die.

He says you are maybe pretending to be asleep.

This image is waiting for direction because why else would a body be on its hands and knees on the floor?

He can fit my whole kneecap in one of his hands. 

If I am more beautiful by the majority opinion then I am more likely to succeed overall.