Off my chest present Liiek at Guac n Roll 21.11.26
If Living in a Fiction were a way of walking, it would start slightly hunched forward, at a brisk pace, eyes fixed on the two or three meters in front of you. That’s how you move through the city when there’s pressure but you don’t want to fight. Was that a stumble? No, that was a lunge — a pas de bourrée of sound. Loosened up like that, you groove — but only until the next street corner. Now it’s a run — not for training, but for joy. The gaze lifts. Was that a
smile?