Ashmolean Museum Neue Nationalgalerie Bagnols-sur-Cèze Townhall Isabella Stewart Gardner Museum Juan B. Castagnino Museum of Fine Art Montreal Museum of Fine Art
Sometimes I wonder what it would be like to have my face crunched down into cold, white earth. What the taste of ice and blood would be like mixed together on my already acidic tongue. Metallic. Lingering. Thick. If I'd find it in me to get up. Blister out one more round despite it all. Or if I'd finally stay down. Drift off with the wind. Disappear into the quiet.
I don't want to be filled to this capacity -- it's a god damn travesty. Spent two years finding insanity. "Crumpet and tea?" My mind keeps going back and forth with rubber-band-like elasticity. Feels like I'm being shocked with electricity. "Crumpet and tea?" "Crumpet and tea?" It's just the Mad Hatter and me.