“ Memory is curated. All this paraphernalia you collect to ward off forgetting ”
Explosions and fighting robots and shit. What’s that got to do with the heart?
~ Lauren Beukes
This is my idea of family, actually, a sticky morass you can't chew your way out of.
The dream knows what they are waiting for, even if they don’t themselves.The end of everything.The moment when it reveals its miracle boy and all the eyes will look and their seeing will be horror and glory and wonder and it will pierce the skin of the world, collapse dimensions, and open the doors and the work will breathe and dance in his shoes and the dream will be able to escape.
Only other people can make you feel real.
