ennui noirThe need to find yourself and your beauty through the mists of solitude. A necessary and horizontal warm blanket which never evolves. I penetrate in the faint light but in the heart of the darkness of the imaginary. it is a sweaty sound flowing into the pulsating veins. it is bated breath when you half close the eyes. it is apathy of an imposed infinity, marked; impotence to live. It frees expression of disgust and joy in taking delight of it. There