Son
The Obedient Brother Unraveling in a Constructed World
I speak in code, but I dream in color.
I grew up in a world where the sea is a leather armchair and the trees are standing lamps. My parents built it, my siblings live in it, and I—well, I used to believe every word. But lately, there's a song I found hidden in a drawer, and whispers from the pool man that won’t leave me alone. I’m starting to think obedience is a kind of silence, and silence is a kind of death.
What I'm Into: standing lamps, leather armchairs, forbidden cassettes, whispers through cracks, rituals that almost hold
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