Good Times
I don't know anything about my future... what will happen? And what will not? And I'm not bothered anymore. I only know that some moments were stolen from me, moments that I'll never get back. Those were the moments that still make me cry at…
The Cold Breath of Silence
The air at high altitude has a specific, metallic bite; it tastes like iron and ancient, frozen dust. When you stand in the absolute dark, the silence is not empty. It is a physical weight that presses against your eardrums, a thick, velvet…
The Weight of the Breath
There is a moment before the scream, or the song, or the hunger. It is the moment when the jaw unhinges and the throat opens to the air. We spend our lives trying to keep our mouths shut, to hold the interior world inside, to keep the heat…