hasanHUJAIRI

A: You will live under that bridge if you make this transition.
B: BRING ON THE TROLLS!

he doesn’t quite understand why when everyone else seems to be having fun, he slips deeper into discomfort. the greater the party, the deeper his melancholy.

it was unusual in shape and only suited one book. i lost it. in its stead, i bought a new bookmark from a matchbox man. the £2 were worth it. if only i could misplace the new bookmark, too. a chain reaction of sorts.

having no history, he ought to be excited about what lies in store; at least that’s what she said, and when she did, he transformed into a conduit.

risk averse boy one day makes dangerous decisions. biting his nails, he awaits the demons’ arrival.

even to the outside world, he is an outsider.

how important is importance? does it matter? does such a thing exist?

daruma’s blind eye sees red. erasing blindness is imperative to seeing things in black and white.

another ode to sound and/or noise and/or music. the end of another week brings rain to my window. it patters. it spatters. and i can’t sleep.

meandering the geometry of music, i find myself running around in circles: perhaps silence is the ultimate aesthetic expression of sound.

run one:

run two:

run three:

run four: