The Things I've Seen, The Things He's Shown Me

My eyes thirstily drinking it all in, I'd never seen anything so pure in my life. He channeled the universe through the focal point of his lens and created something I never thought I would see. I can't even begin to-....

The quiet man with the sad soul had focused the exquisite beauty of his very being into his photographs. Over the years since we last met he has become profoundly and infinitely adept at creating such rapturous art that I have so much difficulty in even putting stupid, simple human words to it. Silly mouth-sounds in all of the world's most beautiful languages could never begin to express, define, or describe the catharsis with which his photographs inflict upon me. He himself is magic, and he has burnt away all the impurities found in life and has unveiled the cleanest, purest reason for existence:

TRUTH.

Heart attack, sweet, sweet heart attack. Where do you go when you don't know where you wanna go when you die, when you die, when you die? Slip past a galaxy, reincarnate out of misery, get reborn into multiplicity. Sigh, sigh, lie.

Womb.

Tearing it down like old wallpaper. Ugly patterns, pretty, pretty blood. Purple sky bruised, bleeding and leprosy plagued. Husk. Happy husk. DO NOT DELETE ME. Evolve into a new species.