WB1000(TL320) 2.0s l F7.2 l ISO 80 l 4.3mm
Old leaves are falling down even in springtime. Shadows and remains are lingered in the field where our memories used to push up on the wall of sorrows to get out. Endlessly, little wild birds run away dividing original boundaries of space, to find another excitation that last winter let behind. At the moment of loneliness, vulnerable sensations finally belong to god’s one, to something definitive, but yet useless… While this naturally means a kind of thoughtlessness, I may belong to the volition of my youthfulness.
But tight tides, disabled dissapearings or irreparable ignorance stay continuous. The time and its indifference bring out the ultimate promise in a life. Frustrations become less important than depressions. What I’ve searched on the road is finally understood by a low whisper from the sky. And then only a few words of consolation has been hold. Feels of lack, the slight sign of melancolia tells no more. Thus, I walk on the wall of these shiny days, like a falling bird in the early spring.