on the freedom of writing
soft art
we are flowers
– serene chaos
of inner-peace
the hard children
the world is a hard place so we raise children with fire and brimstone with grit We harden them to the embodied parts of themselves. prize reason, and rationale over feeling and being the world is a hard place so we raise hard children and so the cycle of the hard world continues perhaps we... Continue Reading →
decay
of depression
