Painting and description guided by various Gan methods.
We're disappearing into our separate ideals. The time goes faster when we're apart and the time slows down when we are occupied by our daily routines. It's so cold in here, you hardly breathe when I speak to you, when I kiss you you seem to levitate off of your chest like some great divinity. I can't bear to be where I am, I can't abide this place, and I know it will soon become apparent that we're disappearing into separate ideals. Occupied by our own little scuttling fragments, we miss the fullness of all that we are and all that we were. I miss the boundless, I miss the ecstatic, I miss the God-given, I miss thе time as one with you.