Untouched Mythology.

And we sat and twisted the words, until we made them what we want. Until we made them fit us, and what we believed. Need? Want? It doesn't exist. Those individuals, those who merge from two, slowly into one. Those for whom the fire dies in their eyes day by day. Those for whom we see their passions, slowly becoming a singular. Those for whom two heartbeats are more important, four hands to cling to, four eyes to well up, two pairs of lips to care and cry and scream so desperately. We made those individuals out to have made a choice. It will never happen to us. We don't need to take that road. And the crisis was averted. We made the words speak. We made them tell us only what we wanted them to.

Photography by: Muzi.