I relate to it so much to a point that I have too much to say, too much to think, too much to even barely get myself started.
Faces, conversations, motions, where is me, where is reality?
When you see those faces blurred out into the fog, the thick fog. When kids have only robots to play with, when streets are full of emptiness, when you hear those sounds and blend into noises, you are not even bothered to doubt them, you suffer from them, you accept them, you know them, you speak them, you understand them, you confuse them. Evey word, telling anything you could to describe them.
Can this love affair even amend anything? or do you even call it a love affair?
Of abandoned fishing cottages, electrical towers, looming docked ships - desolation.
Relocate, readjust, -
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