Series may be dead already, but it may live in you not even realizing a word... so as I continue, continue seeing skies and remembering that winter comes, remembering or my future self forgetting what was our mind like in the coldest weather feeling true warmth and trying identify something more related to ourselves. remembering the roads we covered with a stranger, who was always a different person, but still may be said was a stranger. This story won't be finished this easily, because it is about repeating and forgetting the things which this story is about.
As everything grows. I can still see myself arguing with me, about the definition of sanity and growth... asfor growth may be obtained with staying still without any movement, only because thinking that it will turn into a unique kind of movement, which will be maybe infinite - Shattering time, only by thinking about a certain thing which may not even be possible and exactly this possibility and risk gives potential of still being a Lighthouse itself containing the Idea I implemented and... It still can be forgotten.
Well. With the escalation of transitions and having only memory left to proceed as a human being I wanted to say that the perspective of a picture must give a certain emotion and after this you must slaughter off the real picture from yourself, kinda paradoxical it is. So as I can say the same thing about executing a lot of other things, almost everything maybe...
People of the village hidden in the mist
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. -There are chances for us to be connected to each other and to every place that we have visited.This I can tell from the euphoria and the ecstasy from the atmosphere, which each place holds with its beings. They are surrounded by aura of the past souls.In deep thoughts, I think that every place has its own enigmatic meaning, which is the highest secret to have touch with, which has its own consequences.
-silhouette defines?
"32% 2:32" A border/restriction which represents freedom(?), Having an image of yourself standing on ground. A "must" when you become one with the ground, mostly... and the exceptions make everything more interesting as always. In certain situation being a part of perspective and symmetry. Becoming a silhouette, when giving away thoughts to nothingness, (or hopefully somethingness) which also hopefully won't accelerate the enrtopy, is what is happening now within...
-houses facing hope .
. Yet hoping for hope still exists. The atmosphere must be saying the same thing. Over and over again feeling alienation and having nobody to be listened by, I feel how slowly I become fixed. Seeing houses facing the sun, mostly synthesize this process. 44% 1:11. Telling theories to wind or someome wind-like re-creates the vessel in me. The unique void - having ability to synergize with everything, after sharing to someone on human language accumulated emotions. But the conversion of this formats is not absolute (as everything else) even with years of trying, without proper coincidence and observers knowledge from the other side of sun.
-Houses who have lost all hope ∆ .
. The mist and the blue haze, was kinda connected with the stable character of mine, instead of so thought emotional state. Traveling through the fog, I realized that I was having contact, not with water droplets or ice crystals, But with the aura of the region and the stars who led the way to nothingness.
Mysticism under the skin. ∆
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. In the depths of creation and intensively changeable weather, converting this into the format of theory of emotionality, my bipolarity triggers with amnesia that follows it. Rediscovering the details replace old rusty screws in me. Surrounded with new minds, seems oddly familiar and kinda making me feel that nothing is really new. Returning to old cycle, which makes unpleasant waving sound every time it turns. Making an advancement to the wanderer above the sea of fog and creating an abstract finish to an episode with crows cawing in the mist.
