i fetysze:
O mnie
and we choose the wild grass, the boiling sand, the scorched earch, the inhospitable bush. we choose to find ourselves in other places, in pain or in creating that pain, in the perfect scent of a sweat-covered armpit, in the precision of the whip on the flesh, in absolute obedience, in possession born from love.
yes, we are deviant, we are others, we are that.
we are.
if travel is searching,
and home what's been found,
i'm not stopping...
i'm the Hunter.
(Björk)