"There’s a gap in between, there’s a gap where we meet, where I end and you begin…”
Thom Yorke, Radiohead (2003)

An unwritten narrative for which there are no words, yet the hunger remains unsatisfied. The myth that by penetrating it’s deep layers unfolds a unique perspective. A skin that slowly peels away and completely reshapes itself. The revelation of what flows so purely through your veins and yet is so raw, it strips you down to the bare bone. It consumes you and spits you out. Sometimes I wonder, is it even mine?