Cleo goes for a walk. She passes a street musician playing a song she doesn’t recognize. She starts crying. She cannot explain why. The cello note swells.
“This is the button that kills the vine / This is the garden I’ll redesign / No thorns, no honey, no ‘are you still mine?’ / Just a beautiful, tidy, algorithmic lie.” act 1 eternal sunshine
“They say the opposite of love is indifference / But the opposite of us is evidence / I kept the receipts, the flight logs, the bite marks / Now I’m just a curator of a closed-down dark.” Cleo goes for a walk