[...]Memory is a poison that compounds with our years, the awareness that life is the decoration of our solitude[...]
In the middle, I.
And yes, life is a dream, but not for lack of truth, not because the realities of its scars are lies, but because in dreams all the times of the same city coexist and everything accumulates behind a gaze, in the basement of our solitude, and the streets that disappeared years ago are made of flesh and bone, and the man walking alongside a river that no longer exists can forget for a moment that his life, what he calls his life...
Becoming present, resembles a memory.
In today’s garden, the slowest rain of last winter falls.
.: Luis García Montero, from "Staying Without a City and Other Prose" :.
#chiaroscuro photo @feide86
Pongo 3D "Duck with a Pearl Earring," spray on wall.
In the middle, I.
And yes, life is a dream, but not for lack of truth, not because the realities of its scars are lies, but because in dreams all the times of the same city coexist and everything accumulates behind a gaze, in the basement of our solitude, and the streets that disappeared years ago are made of flesh and bone, and the man walking alongside a river that no longer exists can forget for a moment that his life, what he calls his life...
Becoming present, resembles a memory.
In today’s garden, the slowest rain of last winter falls.
.: Luis García Montero, from "Staying Without a City and Other Prose" :.

#chiaroscuro photo @feide86
Pongo 3D "Duck with a Pearl Earring," spray on wall.
DeRank ™: 10,45 Supercazzolaro
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