In your selfie face I see only pain.

Your brain has lost its goddamned mind.

Becoming good at something is a kind of loss.

Your hearing starts to go, and then your vision—preparation for leaving this world.

Visible: not a good look for me.

When someone tells you ‘it is what it is’,
what they really mean is ‘fuck you.’

Beneath the zeitgeisty affectations he was an old school creepy letcher photographer guy.