reality bites

.

a breath

Despite all that I knew

to be true,

I 

let 

the mist inside of me

to consume 

what was left of my black heart. 

a poem

Apprehensions

by Sylvia Plath

There is this white wall, above which the sky creates itself--- Infinite, green, utterly untouchable. Angels swim in it, and the stars, in indifference also. They are my medium. The sun dissolves on this wall, bleeding its lights. A gray wall now, clawed and bloody. Is there no way out of the mind? Steps at my back spiral into a well. There are no trees or birds in this world, There is only sourness. This red wall winces continually : A red fist, opening and closing, Two gray, papery bags--- This is what I am made of , this and a terror Of being wheeled off under crosses and a rain of pietas. On a black wall, unidentifiable birds Swivel thier heads and cry. There is no talk of immortality among these! Cold blanks approach us : They move in a hurry.

Paris is for lovers

t.v. shot

RD Laing - revisited / admin invite / 18+ Group

The way we have grown to see 'things' beyond the norm, beneath the surface, the fabric or matrix of a 'so-called society'.

Psychology and visual concepts in the 21st century.

Our experience in an ever-increasing technological age of ourselves and others.

May Features on Flickr

by Paulina Otylie Surys of London.
 psurys