IT100 1/180s l F9.5 l ISO 80 l 5.0mm
When the era of the iron declined by first recitation of Beatles, new waves of culture could be dissolved in the mentality of most of who should feel inspired. It was a kind of flickering sign that has been prolonged from the middle ages, calling for a time-sickness. Desire for human complicity soundly raised up to the fact of birth, finally found means to be flattered. Now the time, that is used to be capable to keep chroma of the deepest side of the moon, falls off over thousands of excuses.
I’m wondering what could be the next excitation in this barely unpredictable world. Pitifully, I just grasp one certain silhouette on the tame horizon. Keeping my forehead always stained, I listen the sound of my knee muscle-knocked rhymed with a sloshing of the boat. It sounds like, “I may have lived a thousand lives,… an endless turning stairway climbs…” Then I look up the sky full of gaps of different tones and imageries. Being chained from one of these gaps, I leap over the great chained lady.
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