I have inside me something unsettled, something off. I have inside me a burning sensation, something calling out to the great unknown. I have inside me both a great distaste and adoration for Tarkovsky’s Mirror.
I’m not writing a review, I’m writing a collection of my thoughts, because for the past 20 minutes I have been sitting in the dark, in silence, and now the silence has become unbearable, and I must make some assurance of what is inside me.…