Shadowboxing Until My Hands Bleed

Maybe about forgetting or remembering or enduring things about people I love. Maybe about myself. Maybe about still being in denial. I’m not really sure what I’m supposed to do, I haven’t been for an entire year now. I have no idea how I am supposed to cope with loss or wrestle with things that remind of me death. I am shadowboxing until my hands bleed, not defeating anything. Recorded somewhere late august in my house and norm house, also several other locations in Portland near friends’ houses. For paris and for myself