when i squeezed through the fence gate of the limestone block enclosure mister was close behind, but then he passed by the entrance and when i got his attention he veered into the dense green beside it and stood looking through like he was waiting for me to open the door, so i came back out and called behind him, and then we went in together. i felt something stir when i saw him in the dense green border, i felt how easily we can be lost, in the world and in our own minds.

it feels like every day is preparation for the unthinkable. what is inevitable can't be avoided. the end of life is a given. we can think about that. the unthinkable lies beyond the reach of our minds. we can imagine death, but we can't imagine genocide, ecocide, we can't imagine extinction. it's just words. words in our guts we can't adequately translate. no matter where we are these things seem to happen between the gut and our thought's periphery. is this some kind of liminal sanctuary?