in dreams we enter a world entirely our own
it's weird, some of these Children of the Black Sun pages take me about 4 hours to finish, others, like this one, take almost 4 days. dunno why...process is as process does i guess.
"I DO I UNDO I REDO" as the sculptor Louise Bourgeois says.
it felt extremely validating to see this video. inadvertently came across it during one of those nights when i realize i haven't spoken to anyone in days, and in that Something Must Be Wrong With Me head space that wonders why i'm not Out There with some misguided and doomed to fail attempt at having a social life. but group dynamics and empty words really don't do anything for me in terms of feeling good about life. so alone at home i stay, with whatever slight breeze of tranquility i can experience over a good cup of tea.
found this little recording the other day, and although it's difficult to remember ever committing it to tape at some point in the last 4 weeks...there it is. i would imagine that it sounds like the closest thing to happiness i'll ever know because it is so small and short and fleeting and fragile. don't try cramming it into a jar with a bunch of butterflies, they will all die.
a tiny light returns like fireflies at the end of summers night
*u can call me ph!*