I wonder if they can even see it. I wonder if anyone even hears it. It’s a sadness like an avalanche; there is no escape. It rolls over me in cold shivers and freezing particles, it isolates me, holds me captive and tortures me with eyes wide shut. Leaning into the gloom crystallizing in the fibers of my muscles, there is wind like Nordic water, wind like hellish pain, wind like eyes that sting and ears that burst. How do they explain that? Have you ever missed a friend? Because I miss my friends. It hurts to see them without me, it hurts to be alone.

In my dreams I have golden teeth and there is enough food for everyone. In my dreams I’m a dog chasing its tail; in my dreams everything comes in circles. It’s okay! I just don’t want to be alone when I die.

Everything comes in circles and my tears are absorbed by the heat-bullied soil in my garden.

But back to my heart and the warmth in the cells of my skin. They work day and night, they expand into a dying future, expand and grow. Then I wake up, surprised: I am still alive. But they work, they don’t give up, as it’s worth losing yourself for the compromise of a painful life. My sadness is an avalanche and I forgot how to ski.

I wrote a million letters in my head, took endless pictures, went for a swim, ate vigorously, fucked and did drugs. I wish I could show it to you, but it’s honestly quite exhausting since I’m shivering under meter-thick layers of snow and ice.