I hold in my hands the last ounce of candor, the intention to liberate, mar… I turn my gaze to meet the blaze of outlines and sketches in the being, trying, remembering not remembering how faces were plastered on before. It was all a happenstance of the mind. Hazy flashes of yellow and orange, warm colours of familiarity. Ringing laughter’s of ghosts in recollections.The pursuit for a believable spot in reality and humanity, misplaced. With preference now not to be implicit; since similarity is in the consequence. Are we not humans governed by sentiment and stance?
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