“ A sky faded from too much light, hangs very far above, unreachable. From it, the sun plunges down, ripening rocks and gravel, brush and thorns. The traveler does not choose his landscapes. He takes what comes. Instead of a forest he may find a desert, instead of a pond with the tiniest fish he may find an ocean that has no end…
His fears will travel with him, clinging to him with an endless love.
His fears will travel with him, clinging to him with an endless love.
— Sharmistha Mohanty, from “Yellow Light” (via hypocrite-lecteur)
