I guess that’s a feature of madness. The things that torment us become so large and loud that they lose their shape and substance. We can’t see what they are anymore. We hear the screaming of truth, but the words become unintelligible, another language from another, strange place where pain has distorted reality. The ‘Beast’ might be able to transform into the ‘Lover’ if I could find a way to give it some space and time.
Indigo Daya, Creating a Voice, 13 March, 2016