IfI wereto writeevery dayfor onehundred days,would my soulbe purged ofthis malaise;is it a thingto be dredged,dragged up –twistedand tiedlike tatteredbed sheetsknottedtogether;is therea remedyfor thisscourge;or is thisan inherentrestlessness,a fiery bluespark of eternalangst ignitingpassion – a callto write? (Originally posted February, 2017. Image my own)
Expectations artificialliving in an urban junglelonging for nature’s calm – time moves too swiftlybarely registerlet alone participate We are guests in our ownexpectation’s dysfunctionlicensed for depression a smorgasbord for abuseintentions mislaid,disappointment unavoidable The ego pretends to be openbut she’s an actress off cueplaying out a sentence – condemned to basicspraying to escapethis dystopian malfunction. (Image […]
Great photos!
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Thanks, Eugi
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You’re welcome, VJ.
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Someone was having a bad hair day, it appears.
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Lol. He was when I caught up to him.
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So glad I’m not the only one that has to pull it together at times… 🙂 Beautiful, VJ!
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Lol. No you are not. Thanks Wynne
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Wow, what great photos!
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Thanks 😊
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Vain, but not in vain
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Exactly!
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All right, Mr. DeMille, I’m ready for my closeup.
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All right, Mr. DeMille, I’m ready for my closeup.
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😁
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Looking better now. 😛
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I agree! Great photos, VJ! 😊
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👍🏼
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😊
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Yes, he is!
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😍
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