you're growing up and your heart dies, and the most of us doesn't care about it.
the matters that normally drives your normal life through the roads of your brain just becoming something something new, something that can also scare you and then you found yourself smiling alone in the corner of a bar, kinda drunk.
Things are because we see them, and what we see, and how we see it, depends on the Arts that have influenced us. To look at a thing is very different from seeing a thing. One does not see anything until one sees its beauty. Then, and then only, does it come into existence. At present, people see fogs, not because there are fogs, but because poets and painters have taught them the mysterious loveliness of such effects. There may have been fogs for centuries in London. I dare say there were. --Oscar Wilde.
.. hello dear my friends! I'm back! how many things have changed! perhaps too many! But the spirit remains the same .. same passion for photography that will never die .. Lately I've been experimenting with new things, as always, specifically related to fashion photography, and the role I'll leave you to give me some advice about my impressions of the new photos! see you soon!
Different things-views-stories by HunterOfSolitude, journal
Different things-views-stories
cross my heart I hope to die,
that's so weird.
you're growing up and your heart dies,
and the most of us doesn't care about it.
the matters that normally drives your normal life through the roads of your brain
just becoming something something new, something that can also scare you
and then you found yourself smiling alone in the corner of a bar, kinda drunk.
Things are because we see them, and what we see, and how we see it, depends on the Arts that have influenced us.
To look at a thing is very different from seeing a thing. One does not see anything until one sees its beauty.
Then, and then only, does it come into existence.
At present, people see fogs, not because there are fogs, but because poets and painters have taught them the mysterious loveliness of such effects. There may have been fogs for centuries in London. I dare say there were.
--Oscar Wilde.
e come ogni anno, arrivano le feste natalizie.
Alberi, luci, colori. E i tuoi occhi che sono non riescono a mostrare felicità, seppure apparente.
Ti vedi, non di proposito, di fronte a quella felicità comune, sempre più solo che mai e pensi...
pensi che ognio natale è sempre peggio, che devi smetterla di essere triste senza una ragione, ti odi, perchè non sei nato uguale agli altri, altri che non vedono che sono soli.
Pallido,
tra i colori
e quel pianoforte scordato,
e il mondo
che ti sembra sempre lo stesso
anche se truccato come una puttana.
Io non posso.
"Dovrò rialzarmi
per essere piu forte?"
così,
°il progetto è finalmente partito, direi nel migliore dei modi.Pensate che in meno di 2 ore, 2 ore, abbiamo montato la bellezza di 4 pezzi!
°Finalmente, dopo 2 mesi di agonia, lunedì comincio il martirio, la tortura, comincio il mio lungo, lunghissimo calvario rappresentato dalla famigerata laurea in medicina e chirurgia.
°Devo ammetterlo. Sto bene. Era da un pò che non mi sentivo così... e ne sono felice e questo si può ricondurre essenzialmente a:
-innanzitutto alla mia dolce metà
-alle amicizie, ma non le nuove, ma quelle che già c'erano e che sempre ci saranno
e sopratutt
echi
sono grida.
La batteria suona.
l'aria vibra.
Il pianoforte sussulta.
quanto mi manca la musica.
ma Mercoledì ricomicio.
Progetto acustico... Tutto Lacuna coil e Gothic Metal :sbav:sbav:sbav
:bulletred: :bulletred: :bulletred: :bulletred: :bulletred: :bulletred: :bulletred: :bulletred: :bulletred: :bulletred: :bulletred: :bulletred: :bulletred: :bulletred: :bulletred: :bulletred: :bulletred: :bulletred: :bulletred: :bulletred: :bulletred: :bulletred:
echis
are cries.
The battery plays.
the air waves.
The piano starts.
how much the music misses me!
luckily Wednesday I'll play again with my band.
a