T H I S P L A C E
I ran away from myself into the arms of another, and now all I’m left with is a series of ruminations at the end of an epoch. Only to once again be reminded that there’s no one else out here. Just you.
“i’ve ignored you, yes / in fact, i’ve entirely shut you up, to tell you the truth / and so i wholeheartedly deserve the bitch slap that life just dealt me / i can’t promise it won’t happen again / that would be a lie / but this sting will last for a good while”
It’s just been me and my little desk for a while, hanging out harmoniously up near the Melville Koppies; my closest relationships being with a rented William Kentridge poster, Spotify and too many plants. I sank so deeply into myself that I fell through the other side. And there, I saw for the first time this ethereal thread- a bridge between this place and no place.