“…Or: it was this, which Turned your Face Downward, into the City where you had Dreamed of Escaping the blū Mask all
these Years; And: it was this Fantasy
of a Departure, that in its own Way, Satiated
you enough to keep going on, Immobile,
and living here, Parched yet Ultimately Content, like taking a long
Drink from a Glass of Water after 45 Minutes jumping Rope in a Sweat Suit.”
– Boris
Izsus, 1989
