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“DYSTOPIA Dark, early streets and high walls of empty houses a lonesome bird singing a hollow duet with its own echo - autumn feels like spring once you have lost everything and stand with nothing to hold onto at winter's edge - walkways glooming in buzzing orange neon light imitating fallen leaves, making the city's concrete jungle a forest - soon November is here, crawling along the pavement and dulling the grey of the ruins they call buildings - sudden flickering accompanied by loud buzzing: the lights went out while winter's edge cuts violently through the streets & building cracks - the bird stopped singing.” — Laura Chouette
DYSTOPIA
Dark, early streets and high walls of empty houses a lonesome bird singing a hollow duet with its own echo -
autumn feels like spring once you have lost everything and stand with nothing to hold onto at winter's edge -
walkways glooming in buzzing orange neon light imitating fallen leaves, making the city's concrete jungle a forest -
soon November is here, crawling along the pavement and dulling the grey of the ruins they call buildings -
sudden flickering accompanied by loud buzzing: the lights went out while winter's edge cuts violently through the streets & building cracks -
the bird stopped singing.