Quotes from Belinda Subraman

News has warped us now to what we thought our parents were. Our flags wave backwards in a non-directional wind force-fanning our irrationality and silent warmth that resists captivity or even calm.

Night is an abyss at the edge of a footstep, raining anvils in a mercury-retrograde imagination needing chemicals. Fog is a curtain of anticipation. When lifted our way is lit by stars on a high dose of infinity.