I live in the world of dream
die in the world of reality
sin in the world of afterlife
born in the world of tomorrow
have mercy... on me please.
The warriors that bled and conquered nothing
The kids that ran across to chase the invisible freedom
The swallows that painted the sky with their own shadows
All arrive at a single cross point
Let me crown you the next time we meet
For we're not the same
never the same.
The era of corruption
Acquired through the most basic interactions of our human race
Fostered by nature
Human nature
Is this pessimism,
or is this realism?
I wish I'd never find out,
but I already have.
I constantly reminisce about those times when we danced in water
or gazed at the ocean with the most meditated mind
It's changing: the form. from live to dead
From closeness to nothing
Then the anomaly appears when I least expect it
So I step into the forest of intertwined fate
And walk down the passage into eternal damnation
I look back and confirm that there's no one behind, that i'd be the last.
the rootless generation
lost everywhere and every time in transition
the everlasting "i don't belong"
and the non-existing conformity
individual anarchists, and collectivist dictators
come and save, not theirs, but my world
the road of manjusaka leads
to the door of heaven
but the only way to get there
is to immerse yourself in pain
學會讓自己完全墜落,學會讓自己完全墮落
回頭看,看到的是被剖成兩半的靈魂
凝聚的靈和打散的魂
多麼完美的對比,多麼優雅的迷濫。
I know what you said last night
Words travel fast, and I got eyes watching
It felt like this
Simple.
I never notice it when I blink
Perhaps lightness is the absence of darkness, and not the other way around
And perhaps that is why I only see the black check boxes
The double vision trompe l'oeil confuses me by erasing the thin line between reality and sub-consciousness
I hope the bell of wisdom will chime loud enough to wake me,
and that the reflection will show me everything but myself.
The passage leads not to the land of Bliss, but of liberation
The passage closes on those who judges a person not by his speech and thoughts, but by who he is
The passage ends in front of a door
The door, covered by layers and layers of web, says:
in neon lighting, vaguely visible through the sequined weaving of the web.
I froze. Along with my mind, my body, my soul, and their time.
Persistence, laughter, and non-sugarcoated straightforwardness.
These are three very hard to attain qualities, and yet are also the top three descriptions I would give Dom.
And one more: a simply compelling voice
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clowverk. photography. vanity. sin. fashion. music. style. black and white. colorless. pointless.