I live in the past. I take everything that has happened to me and arrange it. From a distance like that, it doesnt do any harm, you'd almost let yourself be caught up in it. Our whole story is fairly beautiful. I give it a few prods and it makes a whole string of perfect moments. Then I close my eyes and try to imagine that I'm still living in it.
Sartre, Nausea
Still in the midst of recreating the monsters. I apologize for missing links & the stale-ness of some pages. Yet in my process of recreation I am reminded of the origin of monsters & why it is that I write.
the most un-attached link found & soon to be fixed: photography
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