Everything is surreal. Memories appear in disjointed spurts. Time speeds up and whizzes past, and then suddenly stops on a dime, leaving me suspended in a moment of clarity. Emotions that seem like small change in the daylight burst forth and rage into the night. Nothing can be contained. I’m ruled by impulse. Time’s mad flow alternates between unbelievably fast and incredibly slow. I’m walking along a road. I’m dancing in a huge crowd. I’m alone, looking into the mirror and questioning. I black out into troubled dreams.
Arnold Schoenberg Verklarte Nacht
J.S. Bach Ciaccone
Bjork Black Lake
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Image by Ashley Zipp