Break The Jaw

It seems as if someone accidentally turned on a tape recorder just as a person's whole world was collapsing inside them - quietly, almost politely. The voice sounds as if it is coming from inside a glass ball, where the air is heavy and the words are fragments of thoughts that did not have time to become confessions. Love here is not romantic, but physiological: it breaks bones, twists joints, leaves bruises on the vocal cords.

And yet, inside this fragility, there is something painfully alive. As if the heart, having broken, decided to continue working out of pure stubbornness. It's cold, empty, but strangely calm: you no longer wait for forgiveness, you just move on, dragging your own guilt behind you - like a trail, like a memory, like proof that you still know how to feel.

Filmed by Paige Stark

Edited by Olivia Stable