From: Me
It was a sunny day with not a cloud in the sky, not a wrinkle in the earth. 'Twas a day of pristine beauty, of twelve-different-shades-of-wonderful. There were birds that flit bush-to-bush, and sand creatures that scattered, once uponed.
It was a day of me-without-you, however. And that made it only half a day. There were no clouds in the sky, save for the ones that hung, ever-present to balance your never-present. The earth was wrinkled and angry, it swallowed me whole. The birds flit as if to say, we are where we want to be, we are not with you, as she is not with you. And the scattering sand creatures--who knows with them?
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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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