Sen

SEN It’s a dead end. The whole earth has been covered by the asphalt, and the sun sets no longer. Every fucking breathing thing has to die. Sen’s freedom fades through short-living years. From the sky the vultures spy on the world with forgotten colors : they’re looking for dreams which could escape them. And they would love that Sen asked them to let her live… spend all her life, half-dead, washing our lies stuck to the linoleum of these golden cells. “One never forgets people one loves, but it’s often hard to remember them’ She has now to make this choice, disown or forget herself, abandoned to the madness of the automatic mode of afterlife. No more lions to tame in here, just some pigs to feed and satisfy cause everything has a one-life use. Like the last kiss she though she shared was… One never forgets people one loves, but it’s often hard to remember them. It’s a dead end. Even her name didn’t resist to time… she just sold it to the body she uses. Here, a “none-faced” spies on her… It’s the shadow stolen from her. It tears your heart apart and exchanges money against your blood. Pan, did you make the right choice in the ogre’s secret place ? But it’s the first round to win ! To remember she’s neither the eternal sunshine in which we drown nor the wads, the food we eat, or the work “offered” in which we lose ourselves… It’s better to burn out than to fade away! The midnight express is waiting now for Sen, with its own ghosts, reflections and her last hopes. One never forgets people one loves, but it’s often hard to remember them