The Diseased

This is not written for the young or the light of heart, not for the tranquil species of men whose souls are content with the simple pleasures of family, church, or profession. Rather, I write to those beings like myself whose existence is compounded by a lurid intermingling of the “Dark and the Light” who can judge rationally and think with reason, yet who feel too keenly and churn with too great a passion; who have an incessant longing for happiness and yet are shadowed by a deep and persistent melancholy, those who grasp gratification where they may, but find no lasting comfort for the soul. For it is not something that can be cured or heeled but is like a venom crouching my body making its way to my soul and this tower, patched unevenly with black ivy, arose like a mutilated finger from among the fists of knuckled masonry and pointed blasphemously at heaven. At night the owls made of it an echoing throat; by day it stood voiceless and cast its long shadow.

“AND THE ONLY WAY OUT IS TO DIE”

Concept, HAIR & MAKEUP: Alee’ Hassan
PHOTOGRAPHY: ALEE’ HASSAN
MODEL:
Yasser Abdul Aziz Dar