Chaos weaves intricate patterns on the heavy tapestries of destiny. We’re hiding in the deep waxen forests of memory, terrified of the moment when tomorrow meets yesterday. Bodies like continents to be discovered, explored, conquered. Minds like the universe, ever-expanding and beyond comprehension. Long ago they taught us how to turn our sorrow into poetry, our powerlessness into music; skills we now rely upon for survival. But no one told us what to do with our fears, so we foolishly created gods.

Repressed, betrayed and abandoned, our dreams become stowaways on the dark high-speed trains of eternity. The driver keeps his eyes closed throughout the journey. Moonlight sonatas multiply above whispering seas as a thousand junky-angels gather on Desperation Bridge for their annual suicide conference. Stars rise and fall, mysterious paths appear before our unsuspecting eyes and we cry cry cry the velvet tears of rapture.

Will you look for me, when your illusions of control fade?