Hard Decision.

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How do I price a memory? The memory of my fave person between the ages of 5 & 13ish—when he suddenly died. He was the only person who knew how I needed to be treated as a child—I realize as I type this. I never cried over his death. Fuck… I need… Just a sec…

By that time, my emotions were buried under too much abuse.

I feel the need to keep this photo, so I’m giving it to you for a hug. A real, deep hug, one that lasts until just before you become uncomfortable. I won’t besmirch his memory with actual commerce. By taking this memory, you agree to these terms. The terms apply to ANY owner of said memory. You will never sell it. You may trade it, but only for an act of kindness. Anyone who brings real commerce into this instantly forfeits said gains & memory. By taking gains, you’re advertising to the world that your new gains are free to peacefully take. You’ve been warned.

Caption for photo 1: My Grandpa taught me how to shoot a .22 rifle at the age of 8, so I could help tame the squirrel population. Sorry, little friends of the past! I know better now. Thank you for allowing me to grow. #DoNoHarm

Caption for photo 2: Just like this empty case, your ammunition was spent over 20 years ago. I miss you. I still think about you. We weren’t actual blood relatives—which, makes this moment all the more important. What is with the majority of this world’s fetish with family needing to be blood? Why aren’t we all family? Escape the Monkeysphere! Live life to your full ability to love—infinite! P.s., technically & reflectively, this photo is a nude.

Caption for photo 3: We part with the wise words of an acquaintance of mine. “Arise, chicken, ch… hey, chicken, arise.”—Meatwad.

These exist mostly in our hearts & memories. Commerce mode disabled.

I'm selling a house full of stuff. Each piece will be numbered, signed with DNA infused ink, & come with a snarky/silly/thoughtful/ranty/whatever post. I'm playing a game of chicken with entropy. 100 years from now (or whenever/ifever), I hope someone is inspired to bring all the pieces back together for one silly-ass art exhibit that helps to show us that our lives can come back together, no matter what happens to us. Individually, each piece is meant to bring the comfort of knowing—even in chaos, we always have a place in this Universe, given that its entirety is our home.

To go along with this project, I’m writing a reality-meets-fiction telling of the process—in the sci-fi genre, of course. If you buy a piece, you get a free copy of the book, & if it pleases you, I’ll likely put you into the story.