I am the figment, the untouchable, the concept, the unimaginable, the inspiration, the cast away. My chest feels tight. I can't let go. It's all so much fun for them because everything should be easy. It's not. I want there to be meaning, they want to have a feast.
I'll keep running, a smile on my face. My chest feels tight...
I find it interesting that there's both childlike wonder and almost abject terror in this image! Doesn't help that the runner is complaining about the "tightness" in her(?) chest.
I find it interesting that there's both childlike wonder and almost abject terror in this image! Do
