Black is the colour of womb and tomb; we meet at night on the dark of the moon. White is the colour of bone and ash; to speak to the dead we bathe and fast. Red is the colour of blood and death; we rub the bones and give them breath. ~The Necromancer's Chant, by Sarah Anne Lawless
Quantified, catalogued, diminished, renamed, split hairs, lived the best, lived the worst, equilibrium, in beautiful madness, in dazzling darkness. Understand where you're going when you understand where you went. Not enough glue to fix the fractures and with monumental presumption, now time, time, time changes, time evolves, time distorts, time will always demand its relevance.