Pulled between deep roots of blame and wings that ache to rise, the mind begins to shed CRT’s frame.
No longer bound by Marxist fate or inherited guilt, a quiet revolt stirs. You are not the past, you are flight.
Freedom begins where borrowed identities are finally left behind and self-determination starts.
Venturing into an insomniac’s tumultuous mind, this piece explores the aftermath of losing a loved one through reckless behaviour. You’ll find musical shadowy games, a bed strewn with ghostly memories, and burning anger that would make even a chilli pepper sweat. Comforting sleep? It’s playing hard to get, as usual.
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