makes me grow older,
it makes me feel sick,
it makes my pace slower.
The grotesque of
the image
of a man with his
neck bent ahead to
a breaking point,
but it
doesn't break!
He is unfolding a plastic bag,
he seems happy for sitting on a bench, on lovely day.
How can such a painful-like image ooze anything bright?
Cause it is bright.
Why thinking different?
What do we see when we look?
Most of the times it's just a reflection of others thoughts.
Images can be intangible sometimes...
One Little Soul
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