Fairytale happiness. Superman powers, Santa everything and 12 minutes about Auschwitz.
INCOMPREHENSIBLE SUFFERING is a cozy cloak. It is easy to dress. Makes one feel oneself respected. It looks good. And for coolest/coldest of us, it is easy to undress, when unnecessary. Same dress guide applies to other stressful matters as well. Our airspace is more crowded by critical, righteous minded supermen than ever. In the north-western part of globe at least. Yet there is no savior in sight. About the other cultures I really can’t say I know. Or know somebody good enough who really would know.
In modern fairytales, cloaks belonged to the superheroes. In older ones, for emperors. Today, there is enough fools hailing to skip the salesmen and tailors. Only Marvel believes to superheroes. One truth still holds true; plausable is meh, clausable is everything and visually stunning is even more.
Fancily misspelled whining, but hopefully refining. As I blindly point out, maybe you could see; How come, that joy and happiness are opposite of profound? I know that opposites often are closer to each another, than the middle ground, but why aren’t they counted as one?
There was too many letters to write this post in haiku form. I am too fed up with images of drama and melancholy. Yet, that’s all I got.
If true, as it is said; what the surgeon/healer really wants most is, to hurt— what then is photographers deepest will? To be seen?
Sounds simple, like life usually does. Especially when written.
kalmaa kalpaa. Ohjaa en
Miksi kaikesta tyytyväinen tai iloinen ei olisi syvällinen?