an observation of squares
People. We move from box to box to box to box to box. House to car to building to car to house to building to car to house to house to house to house.
We all talk about loving nature, about getting out into it, about how important it is, but when it comes back down to it, we fucking love our boxes.
(even a photograph of something beautiful is just a square with a snapshot of something else stuck inside it.)
Fuck.
We all talk about loving nature, about getting out into it, about how important it is, but when it comes back down to it, we fucking love our boxes.
(even a photograph of something beautiful is just a square with a snapshot of something else stuck inside it.)
Fuck.