these windows are not really for looking through, or looking at. They're mostly for breathing through. 

I assume there are horses in there but maybe there are tigers. or bears.  you never know.

the only way to tell would be to look through those tiny windows. But theyre so high up off the ground, and the glass is tinted so darkly. 

Whatever is in there is definitely secret.

so the question that i have to ask again, is whats on the other side? And is whatever is on the other side wondering the same thing?

So I was sitting in J&H tires in Essex last week and about an hour into waiting, i turn around and notice that there's writing on the window....

Somebody wrote a poem, dedicated to America. 

Somebody spent so so so long writing it out, lining it up- there were no mistakes and the title was red white and blue in each letter. Now that's dedication.  It made me think a little about screen paintings. You know, where those old people paint pictures on their screen doors and whatnot. I went to the visionary, i guess a little over a year ago and watched a documentary on it. It's genuine folk art. tradition passed down. Now whenever I pass a painted screen i think of it. THE POINT IS. windows are often times something to look at, rather than something to look through. 

I spent like a half hour reading this poem backwards. and then i failed md state inspection. coooool.

windshield

on that one date i went on with the cop this one moment came where he said "hey wanna see something cool?" and he opened up his phone and showed me a picture of a car crash, with the windshield busted in and blood everywhere. he told me no one survived. 

windows are sometimes windows into the next step of soul. 

also, that was our first and last date. 

i'm going to take pictures of windows' outsides.