Solifican12

It smells like the sun, which got a bit too hot at work, and the moon, which got too caught up in self-analysis. Between them is a person in limbo: they seem to be flying, but their wings are on strings. He demands nothing, is surprised by everything, and is generally just chillin'. The world spins on its own, and here they are simply learning to be. No morals, no gods, no imposed meanings. A little dirt under the fingernails, a little light under the skin - and that's enough to feel like part of something huge. Or at least not so lonely in this gigantic canvas.