It never ends, does it? Hope may fade, but longing lingers. For someone to wake up warm beside you, with bad breath and dried sweat, quirks and foolishness.

From Elsie Johansson’s book I sin ensamma kropp

One of my closest friends says we become ourselves in meeting others — that solitude drives you mad. I agree. The body is the form we all share, something universal. We sweat and vomit, sleep too little, drink too much coffee, enjoy, suffer, persevere. We collect fleeting moments of happiness. And no matter how hard we try, we cannot escape our corporeality. Sometimes, being human feels distinctly unglamorous. I want to portray a body far from the polished, curated ideal we see every day. A body that spills over, smears, and feels awkward. I’m so tired of beauty and trying to achieve it.

I just want to puke on it all.