Our souls are damned
I'm in a world of vast possibility, unfamiliar vague faces, fluorescent cityscapes, endless skies and abundant uncertainty, I am mislaid in my own mind all too easily. I fall for the slightest breeze of hope as if it were a storm. Reality is difficult to bear and fantasy lies tempting like the sharp point of an easy escape, but what happens when our minds are no longer ours? Do I dare say? I fear my answer may confound logic and sense with dissipated strands of the nonsensical reality that has led me so far astray. Take my hand as I travel about this spiral staircase inside me.
faceHELL.
last.fm.
Theme Six, by Max davis.
