I'm obsessed with pink. and repetition. and absurdity. All of which pair nicely with obsession. Most of what I make is shit. Witnesses to failed attempts at trying to find meaning or value or understanding of the world. What remains offered fleeting glimmers of clarity at some moment. I barely even remember of what now. I bid you godspeed.
Next Stop: Apocalypse
thinking about the future without bees… or plants.