Coccoon
-There’s a warmth I feel as I crawl back into myself and lose grip of consciousness. Somewhere in there, between the sober reality and my sonambulistic subjectivity, I know I’ve lived this day twice and still have no memory of the day itself. There are these vague images, like sketch art, forming this montage in my head. A terminal, people, suitcases and cars, but in my state, now, as I ly inert it makes no sense. It was the sleep of leaving that cradled me from six thousand miles away, and now, it’s the fatigue of the momentary lapse between […]