Breath On The Window
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Lopende7m
Laatst gepubliceerd vri, mrt. 8, 2013
A silent whistle hisses through the ornate but pale columns that now lie in a crumpled lifeless array below a once distant tangerine sky. The stars that used to be gazed at and admired sit alone, mirroring the flickers and echoes of the imprint left behind, repeating over and over. The only memory of the life lived here...
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chernobyl
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Dear Friend, I have so much to tell you. I feel the words tickling the insides of my lungs, the symbols pile up, I sneeze, and they flock into a clumsy-looking snow sculpture (sorry for the unsettling image). I then begin to introduce those words to the world, to you, syllable by syllable. Like little children, they explore the emptiness of paper, and soon all the universal truths blur as I search for explanations of time and space. Where are we? What are we doing? Using emotions as my ink I tried putting into words the unspeakable thoughts that torment my mind until written. Most of these writings were born from loneliness. You don't have to read them, my Friend, but if perhaps you feel just as tormented... these letters are here, waiting to be seen. Love, - Your Friend
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