The hyphen is the pause between the tear and the falling apart. It is the split second of choice. You can let the rip widen into an abyss. Or you can stand at its edge and realize: this is where I begin .
But here is the brutal truth: the origin-rip- cannot be sewn shut. Origin-Rip-
Your deepest fears? They flow through the rip. Your most desperate loves? They pour through that same gap. Your art, your ambition, your obsession with proving something to a ghost who isn't listening—all of it, tidal, rushing through the tear that made you. The hyphen is the pause between the tear
There is a specific moment in the darkroom of memory when the negative is exposed for the first time. Before the rip, we exist in a state of warm, muffled potential—a singularity of pure is . Then comes the tear. Not a cut—surgical, precise—but a rip . Jagged. Auditory. The sound of a self being separated from the whole. Or you can stand at its edge and
They say that death is the ultimate rip—the soul tearing free of the body. But I wonder.