Christmas and such days

Christmas and such days

10 years, 336 days ago

On days like this, I confess that I absolutely correspond to the stereotype of a painter. All these claims of a general existence, that I want to fulfill from unremarkable run and rest. And the opposite is this longing.

 

 

 

It's an incredibly strong desire for something in the head has a conceivable size, but I do not know to describe.

A kind of wanderlust. The big secret is of one question. Everything strives for meaning. Also my existence. I need space. I know that for sure. Spatially. Prefer independen

 

t. But who gives something without a link? Very few people manage a support of a volatile meaning.

I can understand the rupture of the soul with the consciousness. Very close I feel the breath. This hand, which lures in most attractive abysses ... A primal sense, or random-sense can petrify me. I can just look. Rescue or castration? Maybe just cowardice.

 

 

K.C.