Wheresoe’er I turn my view, All is strange, yet nothing new; Endless labour all along, Endless labour to be wrong; Phrase that Time has flung away, Uncouth words in disarray: Trickt in antique ruff and bonnet, Ode and elegy and sonnet.
“These days one needed a full-scale emergency kit built into one’s brain, plus a crash course in disaster survival, real and imagined.”
J. G. Ballard | Concrete Island
INSTAGRAM
BANDCAMP
YOUTUBE