alexithymia

an inability to describe emotions in a verbal manner. so I take photos of what I see when a feeling is born inside me.

I always admired birds. They are free. They fly away and return to their nest on their own will. They might build up a new nest, to give birth to new life. They become one with the wind and let them bodies float, they choose direction and even if they get lost, they can sense their way back home. They explore the world in grace and freedom, how small humans are from above? how small our so glorious life must be seen?

Seeing things and people for distance makes them so insignificant, so tiny and faceless.

“But I don’t want comfort. I want poetry. I want danger. I want freedom. I want goodness. I want sin.” A. Huxley

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