Love — Selfish?
I don’t fit here, do I?this world of oxymoron's…
He was normal.
But not in a normal way.
Normal John was terrified of being left out, laughed at, of being the odd one out. He was obsessed with fitting in. It was uncanny…
Premiering in color, translated without grammar or permanent teeth. Dirt in my hair and clumped in my ears like wax. I am…
Nature is the panacea,protoform…She is quaint,venerable…
Covered in concrete, forgotten, neglected,we seem hellbent on snuffing the life out of everything green —