Karl Bryullov, ‘Last Day of Pompeii’, (Details)
It’s staying up at night
Listening to the ticking of the clock,
the sounds from outside.
It's being distracted for just a short time
by the light of the streetlight
shining through the carelessly closed shutters
It’s hoping not having to face the next day
It’s numbing fear
Waking up the next morning,
starting the day with newfound motivation
It’s creeping up throughout the day
Doing the dishes,
writing an essay,
drinking coffee
And suddenly it’s there
I take a photo with the old camera out of my mum’s drawer
A quick shot of life
One short silent depiction of how I view the world
I like the old films
Colours not too bright
I’m not good at photography either
Smudged pictures on 15mm
Too orange, too yellow, too bright
I like looking at people, like capturing how life is for them
I don’t like being near them
I like myself on black and white film
to live. to live forever.
— I Guess the Old You is a Ghost (#589: June 25, 2014)
—Albert Camus
Hush
Too far, too wide, too fast
Not yet
Don’t go
Don’t, won’t
Don’t, can’t
Not now
Beware
Hush now
Haven’t done, won’t do
Couldn’t do, won’t do
What can I do?
Can’t do
And can’t and can’t and can’t
I’m scared
Don’t ask
Sometimes it would be nice to step out of one's body and observe
To no longer having to feel and experience things
pain
●a way to let go of my thoughts because I fear they might crush me● ||they/them||
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