On depression, and recovery. ❝Perhaps this is our kingdom, perhaps our crowns are the green specks of light that fall into our hair. And perhaps this is our fantasy, and perhaps we have no crowns but collars, collars that bind us to our differences and drive away the threat of being alike. Or perhaps we have both crowns and collars. Perhaps these two are in a constant war against each other, just as we are all in a constant war against ideals.❞

[COMPLETED] ❝I mean, for all I knew, their mother was a perfectly delightful woman or a nun or something; that didn't make the linoleum sting any less when I fell into an undignified heap in the middle of the ointment aisle of an overcrowded Walmart.❞ Alex spends his life dreaming of escaping. Or something pretentious like that.

A MINUTE IN, AND DARKNESS REIGNED SUPREME. 2016, revolved © ACTION | 54