You’re right. When you murmur in the depths of your silent exhales, I might as well be a burden. A weight too heavy for the animate to sustain, as if I am no more than the struggle to be inanimate. I remember glorifying death when I was a youth; there is freedom in death and […]Read More Promise.
A Chord Obscured. Rustling and humming; gradually yet persistent in the befogged blindness enveloping the sorts of aristocracy. The only sounds that I resonated with, striking the hymns beneath the despondency, a shallow putridity clear yet translucent. The resin that our minds secrete as we dissolve beneath the drugged consciousness – a luminous dream and […]Read More “A Chord Obscured.” by Imaan Siddiq