Vision Quest
Ghostly Aura Photo Effect
Footsteps In the Dark
A Typical Sunday Walk
and/or
A Photo Journal with a Twist
Caution! Contents not suitable for those unable to follow in my footsteps.
This is not the Ministry of Truth.
The Elvin lands went green.
Trees, hardwired
Powering the compound beyond.
And it's halls.
I'd be happy to dwadle,
sit a spell.
But down a sloping corridor
Wait, I seem to have gotten ahead of myself.
Hold up there, where are you going?
She's on a bike, you'll never catch her.
Busy times on the street.
Everyone is going somewhere, doing something.
In the city
Secret portal
The means of escape
A moment of silence
Quiet sanctuary
Alone, one with God
Or a Saint
Blessed Visage
I confess, I do not know what all this symbolism means.
Do you?
I've passed this warning everyday for weeks now.
Like water under the bridge.
Flotsam for the mind.
Them Elves sure know their stonework... or should that be Dwarves.
A staircase down...
I wonder how many fear parking garages...
Like unto the gates of hell, is your place reserved?
Is it?
And then the bikes go roaring by.
A typical Sunday walk, don't know if I mentioned.
Lazing along
Bringing up the rear
Perhaps there was a delivery, address unclear.
But who can care in the sunshine sparkling?
Rest for the weary in a quiet patch of shade.
What country is this?
What year?
When we have buildings so large, forests within
And always building more
I walk.
They ride.
Like a tourist gang
Motors whirring, so quick to depart
Missing the fine point, the details
Subatomic particles, nucli on a chain
It all goes back to the founders.
If you follow that path, through the trees of time, flotsam of the mind
A light in the darkness, you're all alone.
And this?
You can have it.
Kapu! Keep out!
Dead man... could be.
I think of zombies.
I have a desire to write that book.
The pages flutter through my mind.
Zombies all around.
But no one else notices.
Taking pictures of the birds and I of them.
And their artefacts
Evidence of their passing
Somambulence, walking in their sleep, like a good zombie should...
Like a well-shod zombie should...
So where did the walker go?
And what country is this?
What time?
What year?
What pillars do we rest our truths upon?
Did you get the memo, the mail?
I don't want anything from there...
Clandestine, behind the fence, what exchange?
There is no privacy in this day and age.
I don't even pack a telescopic lens.
If I did, just think what I could view...
But I can see enough
Broad daylight, village square
And there she is.
Time for lunch.
Or morning brew.
Such decadence
Such wonder
What do you want?
How much?
In the end, it's money, that makes the world go round.
But there ain't enough going 'round.
So promises of better days,
is all that we can do.
Vision Quest Main
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