C'est malheureux, distance et nostalgie, nostalgie et regret, le ciel pleut des mots, des mots que tu n'entendras plus de moi à l'avenir, je te laisserai des mélodies. 

je te laisserai des mélodies.

i don't have any more words, I'll let my fingers do the talking. 

imad, the pianist.

ما تبقّى من أحاسيسي، على شَكل معزوفة بيانو

للقلقِ لونٌ غامِق

was he chained? all he knows, that he's finnaly free, blooming like a black rose.

imad, Unchained.

imad, awakened.

drowning, beat session -sep7/2021

He’s realized the real problem with stories -- if you keep them going long enough, they always end in death.
(hey inass)

imad: Sandman.

I've been working on this since January 2024, i think i did something.

I found the papers, empty papers

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