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Everybody falls, everybody cries
Everybody feels like a nobody sometimes
You get up again, give it one more try
Everybody's got what it takes on the inside
Story of your life, story of your life
It's the story of my life...
© All rights reserved. Do not use without permission.
0515 local time (5:15 a.m.) Friday, June 15, 2012.
SOOC.
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Love the night sky? Me too. See more in my set, "Star Light Star Bright:"
www.flickr.com/photos/motorpsiclist/sets/72157627647575013/
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My photographs and videos and any derivative works are my private property and are copyright © by me, John Russell (aka “Zoom Lens”) and ALL my rights, including my exclusive rights, are reserved. ANY use without my permission in writing is forbidden by law.
Another entry in my Face Dark series where I examine the many faces of evil that can be derived from the same old doll found in my mom's closet.
Chuang Tzu's Dream written by Jendi Reiter
All this morning I dreamed I was awake
and then awoke to find I'd been sleeping,
time and again. The world we know
is a butterfly's dream
yet Nature squanders millions of golden wings
in a single tempest.
And in another dark dream,
I was searching for a book of deeds
in an official hall
near demolition --- such a place
as taunts me with a familiarity
just beyond reach, like the knowledge
of how to awaken when I know I'm dreaming ---
but only moths spiraled upwards
from each cast-off chest.
I could not read them, and yet I knew
their tissue-paper wings
bore all that could be written
away into the opaque air.
Ah, in the vacuum of space
the earth is suspended
like an audience's disbelief.
To any eyes out there it might appear
to rest on nothing, to descend from nothing
but a dark infinity
curved like the rare arc of a well-lived life.
Yet, like an insomniac's eyes,
this curve cannot stay closed:
the boundaries of space perhaps forever
fly faster and faster apart
from its unknown center.
A cloud of butterfly planets
flung forth by Nature
into perishing ice, flame or forest.
We struggle in a dream uncompleted
and wake, we imagine,
only because some greater mind
(at least for now) sustains the world's illusion.
Zebra of Solitude
There is a Zebra hollow and vast,
maneuvering across the sky-
The Zebra of solitude with stems of dawn
and stripes of fire,
The beast of horse or man,
walking through the vestitbule of life-
I'm erroneous, you are erroneous,
we are all erroneous,
we are all erroneous
Not to see beauty in the motion of the stars,
not to breathe the air of dark infinity,
not to hear the words not spoken,
Maybe there is a Zebra in my heart
hidden from your view, my love,
I open my mouth to let it out-
Out, out, sweet horse! Sweet flower of
Youth!
Life is not truth, we feed ourselves with
dreams,
we live only shadows fo what may be.
/Alexander Shaumyan/
PI. Single picture.
TD. EOS 5D Mark III, EF 100-400 mm, handheld
at f/5.6, 1/1000s, ISO 400, fl/140 mm,
edited in Photoshop CC.