Designer: Manikka
Resources: 1 2 3

o sigurista?

Fear is a funny thing
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The disease apparently extends to events that have been pumping and pulsing with anticipation. It finds us, with our ancient bones and vodkafied (welcome to my world) bloodstreams, walking aimlessly under the stars or lying on the pavement. It leaves us, with our colored cups and bottled stops, sitting on the steps or locking ourselves into gender-negligible comfort rooms. It is a total waste of sounds and strobe lights. It is what turns a party into another night of drinking and sexual _____ (you tell me).

Weeks like this..weeks like this, are what make me crave and slave over an idea. Weeks like this are what fuel my poorer decisions and hang me upside down, from the insides;
weeks when I have to bury a stranger I shared a room with, for three years;
weeks when my brain finds no motive to function (nooo, long tests never ever work!).

Enter: people like you -people who, just as I suspected, are more potent than alcohol.
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It's not supposed to be like this. I didn't expect you to be so..you.


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That is the game I choose to play; with my secondhand smiles and half-meant lines! I'll pretend not to know the err behind every loosely tucked strand of her or word uttered at half-speed..but you should all know better.

Escapism, escapism! Don't ask me who or what or when unless you know a third of as much as I had to settle for. What with text brigades and family council mouths that run miles and years of alumni, back and forth.

Escapism -it's the world I shrink back into, once the locks come apart and the woodwork refuses to close me off any longer. It's the restlessness and sedation of feeling after feeling after numbing feeling borne into numbing silence and spare grins.

Escapism? Its words couldn't hold me.
Its lies couldn't blur the lines between reality and insanity quite enough for my taste.

Escapism..its mention couldn't overlook the fact that a 40th piece of my heart chamber watched air bubbles and opportunities disappear into a liquid sky

and so I purged and I wailed and I fasted and I wrote, struggling to silence that unease gnawing at my insides.

For all the things I couldn't say, and the answers I couldn't find..what now, what now, what now..
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