Heya, this is Lydia.

Music Making. Art Splattering. Word Scattering. Denton, TX.

I dreamt I was part of a clockwork horde. We were each stationed at a punching bag. Out if the corner of my eye I watched us move in immaculate synchronization as we whipped around, struck, pounded and danced. Even our cries rose in time. I felt my limbs burning, my lungs seared, and sweat coating me in a cold film. Our beat drove me on with no end in sight. I was euphoric while also being utterly filled with unchecked rage. It all flowed through and out of me flawlessly. I was a perfect creature.

How can I get to this dark, desolate, darling world of theirs?

Odd rhythm choice for the theme… But I think I like it.