forever, forever we avoid the past by running towards the future, the thermal city which lies beyond the fictional line, brimming in such wish that current tragedies would never occur anymore.
strong cinnamon coffee and cinnamon tea, a layer of glass separated her from the outside din. a soul floating in silence, the unbearable lightness of being in her hands, her mind bore the lights of a metropolis after dark.
she thought of night rain and cold embraces, and how destinies could neither be redone nor undone. it was a joy in the head, in the back of her head; it was something deep inside that went missing, the longing for that night.
when ideas that base the founding of affection go missing, the affection will perforate and evaporate as well.
the night would always recur in her head, recur in endless repetitions as in the words of Nietzsche.
photography by devina
