It begins with a simple thought, about talking into the void, and somehow spirals into what it feels like to travel through a black hole.

This is a conversation that traces the cyclical nature of wanting, the despair of getting a twisted version of the dream, and the idea of what it might take to simply be instead of have. It touches on the clunky baggage of being a physical person trying to connect with another, and considers the energies that flow beneath the surface. The ones that aren't about bodies at all.

The whole thing threatens to collapse under its own weight more than once, questioning its own purpose, before arriving at a place where even the self feels optional, and the only path forward is a kind of beautiful, terrifying surrender.