# 8 || esc.

sometimes it feels like all i think about is myself. but simultaneously it seems impossible to not worry about everybody else. i don't know what made me so sure i have magicpowers that will someday save the world. why am i sometimes spared from the sad sickness? can i spare you too? can i save the world with a little patience and a touch of love? the world is a mess, moving faster than the speed of sound. i don’t want to be a part of this delusion that we need to triumph all the time, that we need to move alongside the 3D printers and 4G static in the air. when i figure out how to escape, you can come visit if you like.

once upon a dreamtime, i’m going to make a reality where every single day is savoured like a cup of tea with two biscuits and slow conversation in a park somewhere with somebody you adore. maybe i would rather be deluded than commonsensical and crestfallen. if the truth is bigger and better than anything i could possibly imagine and if the prize is being noticed and notorious, then i have next to no desire to stay.

أنا طائر غريب، لكنني لست حتى الطيور، وهذا أغرب جزء.

“I’m a strange bird, but I’m not even a bird, and that’s the strangest part.”