All stories are stories of disintegration.
The desire to sink down into the earth. To retreat to the primordial. What are words but excuses for bad faith? What is civilisation but a feeble heap of sand? All long for an escape. There may be cracks in the fabric of things. But most live as puppets on strings whose master is named cowardice.
The violence of love. The madness of infatuation. Still, the pervasive longing for escape. To dig out of…