an ode to a long lost make-belief.
diminished was an era of brittle beliefs— and daydreams. dozens of them at a time, accompanying soft melodies and radiant sunshine. it took me years to envelope the suffocation and make pine-air out of a savage stench. this is what I realise now, being on the other side, all the things I loved, despite being so real and so mesmerisingly beautiful, were not at all alive. I spent my days and bus rides making up those stories, writing about them, pretending I was someone else. someone who knew the light, someone whose darkness could be embraced, tightened into a charming little ribbon pinned on a flowery, bohemian dress. ribbons that kept my heart alive were certainly chimerical and phantom-like. I befriended flowers , birds and passing clouds. I wrote songs , poetry and photographed ethereal views, sank in meadows and grassy fields collecting pine cones and wild grasses. those memories to me are sacred, but as much as they are beautiful, they were unhinged like spider webs that easi...
