Fucked up beyond all recognition. It sort of defines me. Or perhaps I define it. No matter how you split the orange a piece seems to have gone missing. More than a piece really. All I seem to be left with these days is the bitter peel. The juicy interior . . . the really good stuff . . . gone. How did I get here? Where did it all go wrong? My life as it was at the beginning of this project seems a fragmented dreamscape that I only now catch glimpses of in the distant reaches of my memory. Sure,...
