It is in moments of illness that we are compelled to recognize that we live not alone but chained to a creature of a different kingdom, whole worlds apart, who has no knowledge of us and by whom it is impossible to make ourselves understood: our body. A story by Li Hui.
Eye wake up in a construct. Eye lay on my bed and sweat. Eye replay final moments. Eye try to picture her face. Eye program a future version of myself to remember it, slick with seawater, ringed with wet hair. A dark series by Rebecca Cairns with words by Ben Mirov.
I became as though blind and numb, and I lay my back on something hard. I could see nothing, neither I could make any sound. A photo series by Katrin Bragadóttir.
Moon's milk spills from my unquiet skull and forms a white rainbow. Melanie Gaydos in a photographic series by Paul Kwiatkowski.
Is it smoke? Is it fog? It’s scary and charming. I can barely breathe, maybe because of the height, maybe I’m tired. Rest. I’m going down to join him, I’m more healthy than you. Have you ever kissed someone on the edge of the abyss? A reportage by Martine Eshuis.
If I shall exist eternally, how shall I exist tomorrow? Alicia in an intimate fashion story by Natalie McKain.