the_sound_of_the_place raze there were things being said in the room, lives being lived in miniature, pockets of them pressed together and not touching, time passing, doubling back, circling itself, prey circling prey, slow, slower than the word slow is equipped to show, the kind of slow that's too bloated with purpose to pick up its feet. also in the room was a message scrawled on part of one wall in handwriting just on the edge of being too sure of itself: "turn around. the life you want is standing behind you, giving you bunny ears." and you were there in the back of the room, standing, leaning into a crouch, listening to everything and hearing a giant hot nothing scraping its teeth together, hearing air being let out of something already airless, like this, like sksssshhhhhh. 140105 what's it to you? who go blather from