We are stardust,
We are golden,
We are billion year old carbon,
And we’ve got to get ourselves back to the garden.
Breathtaking, like staring into the void and seeing both the most beautiful, fractal multicoloured universe and the most all consuming pitch blackness simultaneously. I feel like that all the time. Joy and life is sucked out of you with each aching second. Trauma erodes at the skin. We are all truly alone and rotting.
Silence creates its own…