I. Tagane breathes in photochemical smog & ocean air at once. He tastes factories & sea salt & kava & asphalt on the tip of his tongue. His mind swirls with potentialities & unrealities, this mixture of flavours that make even the most resilient men gag. Tagane cannot…
Ah, make the most of what we yet may spend,
Before we too into the Dust descend;
Dust into Dust, and under Dust to lie,
Sans Wine, Sans Song, Sans Singer, and
had a long, long road
and it would seem
much too far,
as hope was dying
-Tyler Knott Gregson-
Could it be any more adorable !
I imagine there is a sort of beautiful bliss that comes with agony, the feeling of being so intensely alive. Sometimes I long for this feeling as much as or more than I long for the feelings of blinding joy and love.