Screaming into the eye of the lens.

[kalenight]

My fingers ache from folding paper stars. You'd think that would encourage me to stop, but it doesn't.

Peace. Peace. Triangle. Square. Peace. Square. Triangle.

The man on the bicycle is being eaten by seagulls.

I only watch the colour without the sound, but it's good to have them both.

I want to smash it up.
I want to break it down.
I want a wall of tears to wash away.