Dear fucking diary
I write from the smog of a city without sewers. Clouds are that dense mass of gray smoke we carry in our minds; we use them to represent animals, or moods. But they are only crude forms. Indelible. I can fix a pelican in the blue contrast. Light a simple light bulb using waste fireflies.
I begin with doodles on a small canvas. Outside, it's raining or people are shouting and screaming. Things are sold, scams are committed. Opportunities are cursed. Everything is a collage of superfluous lines and submissive bone.
The colors are distorted, the view is a crossroads of imperceptible details that end up in the same warm place. Lines join together, words fall asleep. Everything is monotonous, an agony composed of tones and juggling. Angles, reliefs. Games of checkers in the dark with children, questions, exaggerated answers. Everything is possible in the intellect. Everything is ridiculous if you think about it, if you stay.
Come to my world. Enter through the door. We'll have butterflies and fresh water. We'll use honey, oil, love. Everything is predictable if you take my hand. Let me show you the light among so many shadows.
@wakeupkitty , @gertu y @solperez
Hey diary,
I know, I know, you aren't mine but someone has to fill those blank pages and spill the ink.
Did you know I struggle with a wedding dress? It's way too big and the zipper doesn't zip or it's more that it's stuck. Warantee would be nice or better the money back. It did cost way too much anyway.
I wonder what to do with it since it's useless and not even a pelican would lile to shit on it.
There's no smog where I am, no fog, no damp or boiling water. Let's see what Friday will bring if the temp goes up. We can share the heat and dream of ice creams that won't mke sick and electricity instead of a piece of cardboard to cool us.
Time to dive in, it's cold inside, the unwanted fridge temp at the unwanted time and place.
Before I forget: I found a smelly skull on the grass (honesty it wasn't me who killed the beast).
🍀♥️
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It is difficult for a person living in the North to understand those who are fried in other conditions. Or maybe the opposite? In any case, moderation is appropriate in everything :)
But you guys don't lose hope, and that's good)
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Человеку живущему на Севере трудно понять тех, кто прожаривается в других условиях. А может быть наоборот? В любом случае во всём уместна умеренность :)
Но вы, ребята, не теряете надежду и это радует )
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As always, I'm glad to see you :)
You're starting out as an outspoken pessimist, but I only see the words.
If you look deeper, it's not so bad))
The world is what it is and we live in it. If you can't change the world, change your attitude towards it.
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Ты начинаешь как ярый пессимист, но я вижу только слова.
Если заглянуть глубже, всё не так плохо ))
Мир такой, какой он есть и нам в нём жить. Если не можешь изменить мир, измени своё отношение к нему.
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We continue to live, day by day, take step by step with or without electricity. At least there is sun.. there are words left and a bit of paint.
Thanks you for leaving your thoughts.
Cheers and Thanks!
I agree, until the sun goes out, life goes on.
When it's hard for you, remember that there are millions of people in more difficult conditions. It doesn't make it easier, but there is something to compare it with)
Original and true. What more does a diary needs?