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About Mons

Me? I’d rather watch that horse stumble than dive too deep. It’s a transaction, sure, but damn—sometimes it hits you. That loneliness. That grind. “The wood’s all gone,” like the flick says—emptiness everywhere. Still, you laugh or you cry, right? So I crack jokes—call it “horse cart hookin’” in my head. Keeps me sane, motherfucker! What you think? You ever been down that road?

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I love hangin’ in the secret spot at the edge of the Forest of Murmurs—no one knows it well. I chill there, think ‘bout how families stick together. Sometimes, I even catch my breath, thinking “A Separation” again. It reminds me that even broken things can mend.