bean_bag_chair raze it was a gift from two people i grew to hate. when i was older and sleeping in a different city, i bought another just like it. i remember listening to jazz albums on the pawn shop stereo that still lives in my bedroom closet. miles_davis. bill_evans. charles mingus. some of the records belonged to my grandfather. they were as dirty as time made his mind. i did what i could to scrub the grime from the grooves. i took a polaroid picture of someone i loved sitting right in the sweet spot. when the chair's only occupant became the dust i couldn't keep from sticking to its glossy skin, i sold it to some smiling girl no older than i was when i first felt myself sink into that strange sea of polystyrene. 240609 what's it to you? who go blather from