Description

You weren't supposed to find this.

Here is my homeAway from all chaos and whispers about upcoming impactsHere is my homeBut it doesn’t belong to meWhen you have no hand you can’t hold on to anythingAnd all these years I was lost looking for a shelterFrom all chaos and I thought it matteredAnd here is my home yet it doesn’t belong to meYes nothing belongs to meCause I’m lost and if you ever felt like meIf you had no handsWe’re all the same just some can’t seeJust know this little secret and listen with your heartYou have nothing to hold on to because you’re the one who belongsThis is not a story book.It's a rift—a collapse of memories where time doesn't move properly. Some fragments come from a childhood that seems to belong to someone else. Others are torn straight from the present, raw and unhealed.TheNeshamasknow. Do you?If this name gives you goosebumps—if you've ever felt like a stranger in your own life, if you've searched for something to hold onto and only felt air in your hands—then this has always been for you.

We started in the dark. We wrote in the light. (Or maybe the other way around?)TheNeshamaspassed each other through untanglings and years that folded like shattered, ancient pages.

MayAlterisgrant us the Blessing of Immortality

—Neshama Zero