New & Old, Black & White

A result of thunderstorm and hailstones falling

and probably

a visit to the vintage store, watching Maya Deren’s Meshes in the afternoon, a lecture on the dancer’s foot

and maybe

this is my ‘female’ way of expressing my monthly hormonal imbalance, loneliness and even some kind of unspoken frustration.

Or possibly this never had any purpose, you may assume that. Or if that is what it is to you.

Leave this with unthinking and attempts at unfeeling . 

Don’t think about it. About

light and darkness.

The colors that might have been there.

The things you could have seen.

The ugliness you could have pointed out.

The meaning that may be intended.

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Here comes the month where i am left perpetually tired and seeking relentlessly a source of motivation from my inner self, to remove myself from weariness. To disassociate myself from this state.

Looking forward. Still.

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