I am sorry for everything
So, I’m planning to create my first photography blog although I don’t have the equipments like DSLR and photoshops. I just want to express my love to this kind of art form using only the materials I have. I’m pertaining to my phone ☺.
I’m not a photographer. I just want tell stories thru my photos. In my fingers’ neurons’ will, maybe I will post some of my drawings but I guess, I will help not to do so. I want to keep that blog only for photography and yeah, hope I can publish my photography blog as soon as I can.
flower of symphony
how wondrous you could be
just if you can be free
flower of beauty
how delighted i be
just if my eyes can see
stay where you are.
don’t chase chickens.
I was in my house when I woke up.
My eyes got blurry and everything seems wrong.
The next time I blink my eyes… I saw him. It was him.
Mostly, he was even-keeled, stoic,
the anchor in the storm; a lover
told him once he showed a range
of emotion narrower than that
of a rock.
Mostly, he lived a quiet life, alone,
reading his murder mysteries,
playing a bit of piano, tending
to animals, taking long walks
in the park.
But a few times a year, usually
during seasonal changes,
the lonely nights unnerved him,
and he drank too much and binged
on online porn.
Mostly, it helped a bit, getting
“it” out of his system, as they say;
it was crazy times, but after a week
or so, it wound down to exhaustion,
followed by guilt.
Mostly, it’s a way, the counselor
tells him, of shutting down the brain
when the wild thoughts drag him
under in a fierce riptide
And thus, it seems, he can’t be blamed
and yet the guilt—so much of it—remains.
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People I admire can fly-
why can’t I do that?
Thank you so much for the inspiration for my artworks, Dave McKean!!!!