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Last Updated: 11/18/2009

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Sunday, November 01, 2009 

Category: Art and Photography
We are not living better. We only die slower. Death is on our side while we count the empty hours. We waste away. We always will be foreign to ourselves; shivering before the abyss all alone. Sometimes the rain from above the silent sky reaches out and falls within, and the echoes of the past are crossing the stormy way of doom and whisper of honor and pride. Outside the past, created poverty and introduced sins unleashed hell and broken harmony, social disease and mental silence. A creation of minds insane. Sinful virtual life. No virtues to be found in the absence of truth, honor and glory. Paranoia is the game and their prayers are insane. Bleed forever divine creation! Between me and my dying dreams I wither away. My existence slowly fades. I die to hide. Feels like suicide – an absurd feeling that required my death. When will I decide for the last time?

It’s so hard to be strong.

Sincere wishes from a Silent Space



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The Garden of Silence

 
Beautiful photography! Thank you for sharing. Regards
 
Posted by The Garden of Silence on Monday, November 02, 2009 - 6:30 AM
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Everything Serves The Moment

 
great photos once again !

not living better, indeed

in strangulation,

Alwin.

 
Posted by Everything Serves The Moment on Wednesday, November 18, 2009 - 5:01 PM
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