martes, junio 8

syntacticimages

today i've seen a photo, a photo of photos, a photo of photos i will never take, one of those photos that takes me to a nonexisting future, that it keeps intact since the last time i visited it, doing meaningless its primary objective of modifying my foundations.
it was a pure photo, it was a happy photo despite the melancholy of being framed in those brand new limits. it was like this is what it is, and i'm happy with it.

it was a F.U.C.K. Y.O.U., dots included, you don't have any of this.

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