Temperature on earth is raising every year. The catastrophe is inevitable and neoliberal elite will burn this place while celebrating magnificent view of a sunrise in St. Tropez. During unbearably hot summer one can find some rest walking at night in the forest. Chill and soothing sound of gentle rustling under one’s feet walking through the undergrowth. In the dark, however, it’s easy to lose your path. The ground becomes miry, shoes get covered in a thick and sticky pulp. Peace becomes insecurity.
The swamp. Dirty and frightening.
One can wonder if a sponge could absorb the swamp?