Like a tiger in his cage
I wander around my appartment, will not produce, will not consume. TV, books, computer, design ... all of these things seem artificial and redundant to me. It's like you're being fed a substitute for something else you actually need.
Outside the trees swish, clouds sculp random and wild creatures. A lightning bolt illuminates the horizon, a shy breeze of air tickles me with summer-scents so foreign to me.
I am a dry sponge with sore eyes and barriers so thin I can barely feel them enwrapping me and keeping me in.
Sweden, I am very looking forward to you :)
Outside the trees swish, clouds sculp random and wild creatures. A lightning bolt illuminates the horizon, a shy breeze of air tickles me with summer-scents so foreign to me.
I am a dry sponge with sore eyes and barriers so thin I can barely feel them enwrapping me and keeping me in.
Sweden, I am very looking forward to you :)