whose gift to mankind would only be the existence of the thought of the gift.
this gift would traverse time, time and time again and would fall out of the hands that would rather it disappear.
the annals of humanity would guide its passage, ever suggesting at its one-time presence. where it had just been.
whose son would not rule, but guide, not push, but reveal, not disperse, but diffuse.
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The musings of a mind. A mind of musings. We as a species put foot to ground, but, more specifically, we as a generation put word to screen. This is just an expression of my youth. Some days I'll express my frustration, others someone else's frustration. Ilya "Red Beard" Nikhamin
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About Me
- ilya nikhamin
- I've got a beard, a bicycle and a camera. See my work at flickr.com/inikhamin. It won't blow away, it's digital.
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