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Time equals shit. The shit that happens to us, the shit we do to each other, the shit that lingers long after the moment of impact, the shit that occurs to us while we are in the shower thinking of the years that are unrecoverable. 

Tell the people that you love that you love them while you can and all the

cliches that we pick up along the way reminding us how we ultimately lose every moment. The shit. The palpable disconnect between what is, what we hoped for and the thwarting nature of how we have to move forward. It is always a pick yourself up morning, it is always a let’s give it another go tomorrow evening until it isn’t. The shit. The patience of awaiting the future tragedy that will define our way forward is the saving grace because it allows us a stolen moment here and there where we can connect with our fellow sentient beings. The shit. The moments were what we know we are going to lose is here with us defying our collective demise with laughter that can escape the event horizon of grief that we inevitably know will claim this moment and all moments like it. Leaving our mourning songs to be told by others who knew us and cared about our shit. This video of “Chiron, Galactus” captures, the patient waiting for learning and the hunger that destroys the worlds we have known, perfectly. Trevor emerges from the dark to proclaim that he has nothing but the shit that we collectively mourn. 

The lost love we

have all known, and the bleakness of bright morning light. Yet, sometimes, it is through mournful

proclamations we recognize our individuality granting ourselves space to stand unfazed, by what was, in the present. The shit.

 -- Written by: Kevin Cain - Musician, Poet, Collage --

Promo Photo 1.jpg

Directed by:

Jeremy Quentin

Audio by:

Laird Scott


Jeremy Quentin 

Laird Scott

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