tracing silence
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witherings / narcissus

16/5/2020

 

“Death doesn't exist. It never did, it never will. But we've drawn so many pictures of it, so many years, trying to pin it down, comprehend it,
​we've got to thinking of it as an entity, strangely alive and greedy. All it is, however, is a stopped watch, a loss,
 an end, a darkness. Nothing.” 


Ray Bradbury, Something Wicked This Way Comes, 1962

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