slow dancing in a burning room

Life is veritably—if one believes in myths as truth, as monuments—a candle slowly, painstakingly, unbeknownst and unheralded or conspicuous, burning. Each of our predominately phallic wax statuses is ever-inching towards finality—we will come to the placeholder one day, dust, ash, wax, everything asunder. The key is to recognize the inevitable iceberg. Once approached and landed… Read more of: slow dancing in a burning room