i don’t even know where to put this sadness, or where to find it?
It is a simulated thing, called upon by music or the careful placement of words with images
shorthands for second-hand experiences that had settled so close to wherever my sense of self is housed in my body
what is that? that magic, that completely abstracted construction that reconnects with inherent parts of ourselves
some sort of normalised transcendence
This sadness, it is born from an aborted thing. a hope turned to dust, a loss
that’s all we fear in life, loss
it hurts












