The Uses of Sorrow - Mary Oliver

Someone I loved once gave me
a box full of darkness.
It took me years to understand
that this, too, was a gift.

apt

tonight at noon.

photos

pictures are rather strange things , as you'd see from the many facets in which we see them .
they hold so many different purposes and meanings , and different people would have you see them in different ways , by way of angles/effects/editing etc . while my mind is too tired to psycho analyze the machinations of a cam-whore's mind , theres clearly something about pictures that tells you about a person . Some like them , to reassure themselves that they have lives which can be remembered , whilst others take pictures to preserve the memories they cherish so much , and others still take pictures to portray and image or a facade to the world .
a simple photo can really say a million things , and as i'm looking through mine , i can't help but wonder why i've got this set of photos in the first place . i'm not sure if this perception is influenced by my general mood , but sadly when i look at my photos , i see a recurring stain of regret on nearly all of them , and i cringe at the thought of what a waste those memories have all become . the effects of this are more pronounced because ive not managed to replace the old ones with the new and this renewal of life in some sense , is very much lacking . This would explain my rush to go mad , barely sleep and live the WAY OF THE WARRIOR zombieing around in camp , just so i can make more memories , all to forget the old . funny isnt it , how looking at one photo of seven people , can stir up so much blog fodder and much needed intellectual time for the starved peon brain .