Imgormiel
Part of the furniture
- Joined
- Apr 18, 2004
- Messages
- 4,372
There is always open space,
Space found where ever you look.
Be it Berlin, Chicago..
or even a place called home.
And home is much like those places.
The space ever changing,
people always coming and going.
But in small moments for some reason,
time stops. It just simply....stops.
Things become a place.
Where everything and nothing doesn't matter any more.
It seems that everything in that place is lost.
Wrapped in cling-film.
So moving to another space reasons to the only thing left that makes sense.
Just to be able to breathe.
And when the first breath is drawn.
Loss only prevails when you exhale.
In that moment, in that moment you realse the limitation of your horizons.
Fate, life.
Always moving, always, changing space.
Just like the dot on the window.
The dot on the window of a traversing downtown train.
Space found where ever you look.
Be it Berlin, Chicago..
or even a place called home.
And home is much like those places.
The space ever changing,
people always coming and going.
But in small moments for some reason,
time stops. It just simply....stops.
Things become a place.
Where everything and nothing doesn't matter any more.
It seems that everything in that place is lost.
Wrapped in cling-film.
So moving to another space reasons to the only thing left that makes sense.
Just to be able to breathe.
And when the first breath is drawn.
Loss only prevails when you exhale.
In that moment, in that moment you realse the limitation of your horizons.
Fate, life.
Always moving, always, changing space.
Just like the dot on the window.
The dot on the window of a traversing downtown train.
