The town called again,
the desert town.
Those same faces with rustiness along their blue veins,
those same obscure corners of honest drug dealers,
those hanging sunsets over the forsaken bushes of thorns…
everything same as old rotten pipes.
So many lines have emerged from me being in this deserted wild fair…
I thought I have changed, I thought I have broken the barrier between togetherness and lifelessness,
but it took only a desolated afternoon in this carelessly crafted place to take out the bonfires inside me.
I am hopelessly scattered again…I am dangerously isolated with hard green weeds…
the disastrous formula to write oblivion is getting real again.

…………………………………………………………….

Photograph: Todd Hido.