trying to figure out what that light is…is it just special because it’s nostalgic, or is there really something special about it here? the thickness of it, not only the tone…the sleepy, drowsy thanatos-like state, like that island where odysseus and his men just chilled out like forever…was that circe’s island or where the lotus eaters lived? can’t remember.
can’t figure out my own obsession with light. it’s not just the photographer’s eye, because i don’t think i know how to use light as a tool. if anything, it uses me.
coming back here was good, because this is my life now and it is good.
i always thought i couldn’t come back here until i had a man to hold me tight while i looked around, to hold in the insides that would threaten to melt and leak out from between my ribs.
but they’re remaining surprisingly strong. i still feel the insides melting, but whatever pitch i’m covered with, by this time, is keeping my melted insides inside.