I often wonder...what comes after? What will happen when only bones and flesh are the only thing left of us... What will happen when our time runs out… and only memories remain?… A distorted shadow of what we once were... A fractured perception of what we could become…

We all were born from an idea An amorphous reflection of experiences We can be shaped into anything Most of us were never born Those who got forgotten live in us As a piece of our bodies.... a piece of ourselves locked in a glass prison… with their souls nowhere to be found...

And i am here, you’re seeing me and I’m seeing you through this glass prison… Waiting to be chosen between many… Waiting to be locked in your realm.