I had in my possession a book, which happened to be a play. I didn’t want it, so I painstakingly cut out all the words and sentences and bits of sentences that resonated with the miserable state of being I’ve been in for the past couple of months.
Glued them all to a large piece of black board in a way that felt appropriate.
This was only a small chunk of it. Going longer and further than anyone might have imagined.