The death of sacred things

Harsh realities of losing hope

Worn out and walking around Trying to open my eyes. All around, there’s the blind leading the blind and chickens with their heads cut off; whatever you want to call them. I’m caught in a slew of nothingness, or just too many things happening all at once. There’s no fine balance, but a brutal divide.

Lucky birds

Another year, and the birds are still riding the river on a floating sheet of ice. How awesome it must be to be them; enjoying the fresh outdoors while hanging out as a group with fellow flocks-mates. Just travelling on a mission together, sitting and checking out the cool scenery together, flying about and getting

Naptime