Everyone has a couch, a newspaper, a talking face in the television, friendly bottles, some crutch to take the edge off. Everything is catharsis. But the fires only come in moments we can't account for. Compulsive desires, Irrational attraction, fennel stalks concealing stolen pieces of the sun. I say play with them, be burned, let others burn. No one gets out alive. Burn. burn Dwindle to embers. Gradually combust.
The movement from very tangible “stuff” to combustion is well done. I feel the building up to that point – from owning to play – not being too serious – yet completely serious. Well done.
Death from the inside out. The rotting core dissolving to dust. Nice!