Jul 28, 2024
Everything was so quiet as if the silence was listening, there is a time for departure even when there is no certain place to go.
We are time. We are this space, this clearing opened by the traces of memory inside the connections between our neurons. We are memory. We are nostalgia. We are longing for a future that will not come. Always clinging to our kidhood obsessions, could be a posession, a triggering emotion, a scent or even a person.
They say we are what we do with time, funny isn't it we are what the time does with us? Manuscripts spiralling out like tentacles into abysmal nothing and I wish to write more until I suffocate the maddening hunger.
