It is simply another protective layer that hides the flesh that conceals the insides that hides the soul or the lack of one. This veneer of fabric becomes a continuation of our personae. It communicates an impression that can be false. Therefore, I attribute great importance to the worship of this accessory. One can hide underneath in broad daylight until one forgets what one is hiding in the first place.
Absurdity is currency Logic a rarity Reason a luxury Reality a mythology
It's getting heavier. Harder to take off. Maybe this is what I wanted all along. Maybe there was nothing to take off. But what if there was? Then, what lies beneath? The yet-to-be found Truth or am I already it? Am I coming to terms with the Truth or settling for a lesser one?
Winter felt like she was not a season. She confessed that she thought she was merely the void in the Cycle of Seasons. All the intricacies and beauty of her arrival did not comfort her. For she remained frigid towards the other seasons, unable to bond with Spring, Summer and Autumn. Deep down, she wanted to fade away admist Time. The other seasons knew about this but did not care, according to them, it was but a fleeting state.
"There is an idea of a Patrick Bateman; some kind of abstraction. But there is no real me: only an entity, something illusory. And though I can hide my cold gaze, and you can shake my hand and feel flesh gripping yours and maybe you can even sense our lifestyles are probably comparable... I simply am not there."
A little different. Three small booklets/sketchbooks made up of all the excess paper and test prints from a school project that I could use. Bound with strings. 2010 is gonna be eco! (not)
In a beautiful prison, wishing she did not know what "prison" meant, a girl sought to escape her happy ignorance. If only she knew better, thought her captors as they watched her flee through the diamond wall and into the Garden of Mirrors. Reality had lied to her there was no such thing as "freedom" only the contentment of a mere copy of its concept.