monzone

The Urban Sprawl photographs picture what the artist calls the “in-between” places on the outskirts of cities, mostly in the West. These sites are comparable to what the French anthropologist Marc Augé dubbed “non-places.” This isn’t a point on the map so much as it is the ambiguous gap separating point A from point B. (Photo: Emmanuel Monzon)

Someone once asked me, why do we lose so much. They said, ‘I’ve lost my mother, my dreams, my soulmate, my ambition.’ I told them, we lose to learn, things die to make room for the new, and we must face that.
'But they haven’t died, they abandoned me,’ They said.
'Death takes many forms.’

'Death smiles at us all, the only thing we can do is smile back.’

Y entonces, creí que ya era hora de cortarlo. Ese hilo que nos unía, cada vez tenía más nudos, se tensaba y enredaba cada vez más… Sabía que por mi bien, debía hacerlo.
-Nay Sernades Monzon
Heavy Sleeping

My hands no longer clench,

And I want for not a single thing.

I’ve had everything,

And nothing has had me.

My hands will not clench,

But I long to grasp you,

I am lost in the rhythm of your soft breath,

I am falling right to you,

But my hands no longer clench,

And I will feel this floor.

My hands will no longer clench,

Yet, I dream of clenching you.
—  Submitted by: looking-into-monzon