mantra

Out of damp and gloomy days, out of solitude, out of loveless words directed at us, conclusions grow up in us like fungus: one morning they are there, we know not how, and they gaze upon us, morose and gray. Woe to the thinker who is not the gardener but only the soil of the plants that grow in him.

- friedrich nietzsche

wiki.dumper
magmozine
a.guy.site
bad.chinese.mama
jejune.net
a.cause.des.garcons
spit.on.a.stranger
sluggernaut
honeyee
zefrank
born.a.waterhead
diane.pernet
tribe.net
gallery.of.the.absurd
world.community.grid
smarty.pants
bradford.shellhammer
wonder.boy
ohlala.mag
julie.fredrickson
fashionologie

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i feel the need to move. to travel. to run away as far as possible and be around strangers. i dislike strangers, but i have this urge to start anew. assume new identity and live a new life. i don't fully understand why i have this urge, but i do. my emotions and my being are like two separate entities living within one realm, like two passing neighbours that barely throw more than a knowing glance or smile as they pass the hallways, despite living for years.

portions of my life are largely undiscovered, and i do hope i will be fully aware of my being in totality before i exhale my last breath. it would be a sad way to leave without knowing everything there is to know about your self.

posted by frau frump.

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