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A couple days ago a man told me certain cultures had this inherited disease, quite a nasty bug, though more of a psychological condition than an illness.
I suppose it could be summed up in one word: photographs.
Now, this disease is quite peculiar, affecting many different kinds of people. It entails having the undying, compulsive need to take pictures of everything, to document every part of life in vain attempt to preserve now. However, little do these camera-philes know, they are never going to achieve this tantalizing goal, for as soon as their cameras flash, the moment is long gone, and despite the photographic evidence you have of it occurring, it will never be there again.
It's strange, how hard we try to live in the present, and how difficult we find it to do so.
I suppose it could be summed up in one word: photographs.
Now, this disease is quite peculiar, affecting many different kinds of people. It entails having the undying, compulsive need to take pictures of everything, to document every part of life in vain attempt to preserve now. However, little do these camera-philes know, they are never going to achieve this tantalizing goal, for as soon as their cameras flash, the moment is long gone, and despite the photographic evidence you have of it occurring, it will never be there again.
It's strange, how hard we try to live in the present, and how difficult we find it to do so.
petals
love me, love me not.
love me, love me not.
love me, love me not.
(i'm scared to post my poems about you, since i know you use this site and what if you don't find them?)
i only write poetry on my phone
for some reason i can't be poetic on a computer anymore.
i wonder why.
how to make friends
I found a note in my phone titled "how to make friends" and I thought what I had written there was cute. I never finished it, but I thought I'd share what I had.
"I got caught passing you by, similar to how kids get caught passing notes. At first I didn't think anybody would notice, but then..."
I wonder what happens after!
Anyway, I thought I'd mention I love when I receive comments and stuff on my works, and I'm sorry for rarely replying to them. I read and reread what everybody says, and then I get scared my response won't be good enough. But thank you so much for commenting anyway! I really appreciate it.
Have wonderful weeks!
xoxo
l-m-a-o
sometimes i daydream about making a little book about poetry and selling it at little shops around town. there's nothing stopping me from doing this, i suppose. i guess i'm afraid of success.
p.s. my cat ran away. this is the third gray fluffy one to leave me. i wonder if she'll come back.
© 2012 - 2024 Irrelephantlovesyou
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