In the empty space of the absurd absence, there is, of course, so much more that could be said.
We ridiculously act on our loneliness and deepest doubts and desires, a primal need to connect.
I’m sorry, the hand that is meant to comfort you is delayed.
It wakes up to find you, but it rather sorely finds itself instead.
Nothing pretty, just dismay.
Wistful and slightly grim, yet enthralling words by one of the faces behind TAST, Beata Hely.