View allAll Photos Tagged existential
Dans le Dasein, aussi longtemps qu’il est, quelque chose qu’il peut être et qu’il sera est à chaque fois encore en excédent. Or à cet excédent appartient la «fin » elle-même. La « fin » de l’être-au-monde est la mort. Cette fin appartenant au pouvoir-être, c’est-à-dire à l’existence, délimite et détermine la totalité à chaque fois possible du Dasein. Cependant, l’être-en-fin du Dasein dans la mort et, avec lui, l’être-tout de cet étant ne pourra être inclus de manière phénoménalement adéquate dans l’élucidation de son être-tout possible que si est conquis un concept ontologiquement suffisant, c’est-à-dire existential, de la mort.
Martin Heidegger
ENG: In these times, hope is all we have. Many people have worried thoughts about the future, sorrow about their job, fear for their health and that of their loved ones, existential fears and so on.
Take care of yourself and stay healthy.
•••
GER: Gerade in diesen Zeiten ist Hoffnung alles was wir haben. Viele Menschen haben sorgenvolle Gedanken beim Thema Zukunft, Kummer um ihren Job, Angst um ihre Gesundheit und der ihrer Liebsten, Existenzängste und so weiter.
Passt auf euch auf und bleibt gesund.
Or, "All for Nothing # 24".
Oh man, the Hong Kong skyline. What a view. If I could pick a single viewpoint from my entire trip, it would be this (just narrowly beating Guangzhou from the Canton Tower).
Hong Kong Island really is an urban beauty. So many unusual buildings poking out from a landscape of tall towers with Mount Austin as a backdrop. Wow.
Look there, in the middle at the top of the frame. It's the Peak Tower from my previous shot, The Urban Dam.
If only I could fly. It's maybe a childish want, but I long for such freedom. Little reason to be socially anxious or existentially depressed when you could soar among the buildings.... Sigh.
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April 2016: The trip of a lifetime to China... that didn't go so well. These are my photographs that I was able to take in the fewer, happier moments.
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“Uncertainty and unpredictability of behavior of a teenager (12-17 years old) is the main cause of stress for parents who used to controll everything. And little control is obtained. 😢
There is such a term in existential psychotherapy - uncertainty tolerance. Take care of your health - stop controlling, be tolerant. "
(gestalt therapist Ilya Latypov)
«Неопределенность и непредсказуемость поведения подростка (12-17 лет) - основная причина стресса у родителей, которые привыкли все контролировать. А контролировать мало что получается. 😢
Есть такой термин в экзистенциальной психотерапии — толерантность к неопределенности. Берегите здоровье - перестаньте контролировать, будьте толерантны.»
(гештальт-терапевт Илья Латыпов)
In the east of Amsterdam lies the pretty Flevopark of which I have often posted photos. Besides nature and sporting facilities, the park also boasts sculptures.
In the photo is 'Anxiety Bunny', in Dutch called 'Angsthaas', a relatively common word. It's more or less equivalent in meaning to the English 'Scaredy Cat'. But I rather prefer 'Anxiety Bunny' - given it by the sculptor -, because the loanword 'angst' (=fear) in English has the connotation, of course, of anxiety. Look carefully: this is not just a Bunny that's afraid; it's terrified existentially.
The peaked nose - so very different from a Bunnysniffle - makes this Bunny quite anthropomorphic. Peaked noses are a hallmark of the sculptor.
It was sculpted by Piet Parra (Pieter Janssen, 1976-), a well-known Amsterdam artist. Flevopark has been Bunny's home since 2018.
The sea was angry that day... I mean, somewhere, I'm sure...
Somedays you find yourself existential, in your head, wondering, what's next? What's still to come? Is it alright as I am?
I don't know what to think, just take the day, as another transient start, another forced draft.
This flower is absolutely convinced it’s the star of the show and honestly, it kind of is. Every petal is over‑posed like it’s auditioning for a luxury skincare ad, while the stamens stand around like interns who weren’t told this was a black‑and‑white shoot. The background is blurred because, obviously, nothing else is worthy of being in focus.
This is the floral equivalent of someone who only speaks in “vibes” and insists they’re “not like other blooms.” It’s moody, theatrical, and one gust of wind away from a full existential crisis. If you want this level of dramatic energy on your wall, my latest fine art prints, framed pieces, and decor are available now at crsimages.pixels.com perfect for anyone whose aesthetic is “beautiful, but slightly emotionally unstable.”
One of them having an existential crisis and the other telling him where he thinks the way out is? Can this communication work when the shape of the crisis and the shape of the way out are incommensurable? Are they going deeper, into a space before any crises and any ways out? Are they any wiser now? Can they perhaps ask better questions now? Have they arrived? Where are they?
Fuji X-E3 plus Samyang 300/6.3.
Tool is an American rock band
Tool formed in Los Angeles in 1991, in the middle of the grunge era. Vocalist Maynard James Keenan, drummer Danny Carey, guitarist Adam Jones and bassist Paul D'Amour managed to forge a terrifying, claustrophobic sound, the ideal soundtrack for the insanity of an inmate confined in solitary confinement. It is a highly psychological music, which seems to want to open the most hidden ravines of the human psyche, where evil hatches waiting to be triggered by an external stimulus. The sound of Tool does not just reproduce the teachings of the masters of the 70s (certainly Led Zeppelin, Black Sabbath and Blue Oyster Cult), but assimilates the characters of a series of bands that have made the history of the last 20 years of extreme rock .
The aggressiveness of Metallica, the darkness of the Swans, the barbarism of the first Soundgarden, the tediousness of Godflesh echo in a highly spectacular sonic mosaic, somewhat in contradiction with the intent of the band to make existential music. What distinguishes Tool from the myriad of "hard" bands that populated the charts in those years, is the recovery of the progressive 70s, which can already be felt in the first compositions, but which will undeniably reveal itself in the last album, Lateralus.
Mudhoney Faye Mini Set at Collabor88, will be in Main store after:
Collab: maps.secondlife.com/secondlife/8%208/172/193/1087
Main store: maps.secondlife.com/secondlife/MudHoney/109/125/31
MudHoney Faye Corner Chair
MudHoney Faye End Table
MudHoney Faye Mirror
Ex Machina Existential Crisis Decor Words Gacha at Imaginarium.
maps.secondlife.com/secondlife/Gimme%20Gacha%20Production...
Ex Machina- Love Rusted Steel
Tuesdays Tessle Ball located at the Main store
maps.secondlife.com/secondlife//32/173/1257
Tuesdays Vintage Pillow GROUP GIFT
Krescendo Ever After set previously at Redeux, now in the main store.
maps.secondlife.com/secondlife/SkyBeam%20Hideaway/178/252...
[Kres] Ever After Frame - Silver
[Kres] Ever After Candle - Silver
Rezz Room American Bully Puppy Gacha at A+ Event
maps.secondlife.com/secondlife/Chestnut%20Valley/135/125/...
[Rezz Room] American Bully Puppy Duo
..::THOR::.. Big Wall Clock at the Main Store
maps.secondlife.com/secondlife/Nyn/130/238/3210
Refuge - Ren Lantern Blue at the Main store
"There is no rest for me in this world... perhaps in the next"
This is a quote from Peaky Blinders by Thomas Shelby (Season 4, Episode 6) signifies intense existential fatigue, suggesting that due to a life of relentless conflict, trauma, and ambition, true peace is unattainable in this life, with rest only possible after death. It highlights a, doomed, workaholic, or "damned" mentality.
Artist still unknown
Generated By Midjourney V6
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**🎬 Prompt cinématographique :**
Une scène surréaliste et hyperréaliste se déploie dans un univers cosmique obscur et organique, où un immense livre ancien ouvert repose sur une surface indistincte, semblant flotter dans le vide. Les pages jaunies sont couvertes d’une écriture mystérieuse et dense, finement gravée, évoquant une langue oubliée ou interdite.
Au centre du livre, une silhouette humaine solitaire, vue de dos, se tient debout, minuscule face à l’immensité. Depuis les pages, un chemin sinueux composé de marches irrégulières s’élève en spirale, comme une passerelle fragile défiant les lois de la gravité, menant vers un point lumineux intense au loin.
L’environnement est une vaste cavité cosmique, semblable à un vortex vivant, constitué de nuages tourbillonnants aux teintes vertes profondes, dorées et noires, entrelacés de formes organiques tentaculaires à peine visibles dans l’obscurité. Des particules lumineuses flottent dans l’air, créant une sensation de profondeur infinie.
Au sommet du chemin, une sphère lumineuse suspendue émet une lueur blanche éclatante, presque divine, entourée d’un halo vibrant. Elle agit comme un point focal mystique, attirant le regard et suggérant un but ultime ou une révélation.
**Style visuel :** hyperréalisme cinématographique, rendu ultra détaillé, textures riches (papier ancien, pierre usée, brume cosmique), éclairage volumétrique dramatique avec contrastes élevés, ambiance sombre et mystique.
**Caméra :** plan large en contre-plongée légère, profondeur de champ accentuée, légère distorsion grand angle pour amplifier l’immensité.
**Éclairage :** source principale venant de la sphère lumineuse, contre-jour subtil sur la silhouette, diffusion de lumière dans les nuages créant des rayons volumétriques.
**Ambiance :** onirique, mystique, légèrement inquiétante, mélange de découverte et de vertige existentiel.
**Inspiration :** entre fantasy épique, science-fiction métaphysique et symbolisme visuel.
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**🎬 Cinematic Prompt:**
A surreal, hyper-realistic scene unfolds within a dark, organic cosmic realm. An enormous ancient open book rests on an indistinct surface, seemingly floating in the void. Its yellowed pages are densely covered with intricate, mysterious writing, resembling a forgotten or forbidden language etched with delicate precision.
At the center of the book, a solitary human figure stands, seen from behind, dwarfed by the vastness. From the pages, a winding path of uneven stone steps rises upward in a spiral, like a fragile bridge defying gravity, leading toward a distant, intense light.
The surrounding environment resembles a विशाल cosmic cavern or living vortex, composed of swirling clouds in deep green, gold, and black hues. Subtle, tentacle-like organic forms emerge faintly from the darkness, blending into the environment. Tiny glowing particles drift through the air, enhancing the sense of infinite depth and scale.
At the top of the path, a suspended luminous sphere radiates a brilliant white light, almost divine, surrounded by a pulsating halo. It serves as a mystical focal point, drawing the eye and suggesting an ultimate destination or revelation.
**Visual Style:** cinematic hyperrealism, ultra-detailed rendering, rich textures (aged paper, worn stone, cosmic mist), dramatic volumetric lighting, high contrast, dark and mystical tone.
**Camera:** wide shot with a slight low angle, deep depth of field, subtle wide-angle distortion to emphasize scale and grandeur.
**Lighting:** primary light source from the glowing sphere, soft backlighting outlining the silhouette, volumetric rays diffusing through the swirling clouds.
**Mood:** dreamlike, mystical, slightly ominous, blending wonder with existential awe.
**Inspiration:** a fusion of epic fantasy, metaphysical science fiction, and symbolic visual storytelling.
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--ar 16:9 --style raw --v 6 --q 2 --chaos 10 --stylize 250
║ ❝ Existential Dread. ❞
✕✕✕
║ OUTFIT
HEAD: LeLUTKA Avalon
BODY: LEGACY
SKIN: (Enfer Sombre*) Porcelain tone - Cherry
HAIR: Magika - Amy
FACE TATTOO: -Lepunk- Moon Face Tattoo
LIPS:-Lepunk- Svea Lipgloss
NOSE: PUNCH / Nose Guard
COLLAR: Vibing -- Ember Collar -- Onyx
DRESS: imbue. luci tshirt dress - dread
LEGS: Lunar - Joss Socks - Black
TATTOO: -Lepunk- Love Bites & Scratches V1 +BOM+ & Body Wounds V1 +BOM+
GLASSES: [Cubic Cherry] {Lala} glasses
NAILS: RAWR! Glitter Nails
RINGS: Vibing -- Kaia Rings -- Silver
HEAD PARTICLES: - sixx - Animated Kitty Ears & - TRIGGERED - Starry Halo
POSE: STUNAnim - Cupcake 3 (All Bodys)
✕✕✕
|| PLACE
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City of Demons of Hami Dahaidao
A Yadan is a type of landscape formed by yardang-type geological formations. Although they mean the same thing, Yadan is more of a regional term in China used for parks or geological regions with yardang formations. It is a transliteration into Mandarin Chinese of the word "yar," which comes from the Uyghur language spoken in Xinjiang in northwest China. Yardang is a global scientific term used by geologists in geomorphology to refer to this type of geological formation. It was coined or popularized by a Swedish geologist and explorer named Sven Anders Hedin in 1903, who traveled and studied the entire Xinjiang region. On these journeys, he also mapped vast areas, including regions such as Tibet, the Tulin of Zanda, and a large part of the unknown and mysterious Pamir Mountains, both in China and Tajikistan. He explored much of the deserts in this region of Xinjiang and notably mapped the yardangs of the Lop Nor Desert and the Hami Desert. He also explored the Gobi Desert and Mongolia. He was possibly the greatest expert on yardangs and all of Northwest China and Central Asia. Xinjiang is the region with the largest and most extensive concentration of yardangs in the world. Near the city of Hami in eastern Xinjiang, and southwest of Hami, lies Hami Dahaidao. The Hami Desert is part of the Gobi Desert and is home to vast fields of yardangs sculpted by the erosion of the strong winds that prevail in this desert depression, creating reddish formations and ridges aligned with the wind direction. Hami Dahaidao is known as the "City of Demons," partly because there are some yardangs with strange and ghostly shapes, figures that create an eerie atmosphere at night, but mostly because of the strange noises that can be heard in Hami Dahaidao. The strong desert winds whip up the sand, the strong winds make the stones roll noisily across the ground... the air rushing between rocks and open, eroded crevices, the wind passing over or along the sides of the aligned ridges of the yardang... all these phenomena create sounds that sometimes become terrifying and ghostly, or even the howls of strange creatures. Although the term yardang was suggested by Sven Hedin while mapping the Lop Nor Desert, it is in the Hami Desert where the most "wild" and interesting yardang for study are found, according to geologists.
.....
The "Snarks" sprang from the imaginative mind of Lewis Carroll, the author of "Alice's Adventures in Wonderland." In 1874, he wrote the epic poem "The Hunting of the Snarks," a surreal work like most of Carroll's literary output. The book narrates the impossible and "surreal" journey of a disparate crew of ten "surreal" individuals from different professions. They embark on a search for a strange creature or being, difficult to define... the Snark. And to do so, they use an even more "surreal" map... a completely blank map. "The Hunting of the Snarks" is considered one of the masterpieces of the "nonsense" genre. Although Carroll claimed the work had no specific meaning, numerous theories have been proposed about his poem. For example, it's an allegory for happiness, since it can be seen as the unattainable pursuit of bliss, something that will never be found. Others suggest it's based on Carroll's existential anxieties surrounding the fear of disappearing or inner emptiness. Still others consider it a social satire, a mockery of the legal judgments of the time and, above all, the debates between science and religion. If you're interested, you can find the book on the Internet Archive website.
archive.org/details/huntingofsnarkot00carr/page/n7/mode/2up
.....
The singer jazz Bajka composed a song titled "The Bellman's Speech." If you'd rather not read this interesting book, you can listen to her song, which includes a summary of Carroll's book and a description of a Snark, allowing you to recognize and find this strange creature. There was no luck searching for a Squonk in Zanda. Nor was there any luck searching for a Snark in Hami Dahaidao... We'll have to keep looking elsewhere. Perhaps it's more surreal but easier to search for Rachel Welsh's "The Body" among the mists of the sheets in my dreams.
Vengan, escuchen, mientras les repito las cinco marcas inconfundibles por las cuales podrán reconocer, dondequiera que vayan, a los auténticos Snarks. El primero es el sabor, que es magro y hueco, pero fresco, como un abrigo demasiado ajustado en la cintura con sabor a fuego fatuo. Estarás de acuerdo en que su hábito de levantarse tarde, llega demasiado lejos, cuando digo, que frecuentemente desayuna a la hora del té de las cinco, y cena al día siguiente. El tercero es su lentitud para tomarse una broma, si por casualidad te atreves a hacerla. Suspirará como alguien profundamente afligido y siempre se mostrará serio ante un juego de palabras. La cuarta es su afición por las máquinas de baño que lleva consigo constantemente y cree que realzan la belleza de los paisajes... un sentimiento abierto a la duda. La quinta es la ambición. Será justo describir cada grupo en particular, distinguiendo a los que tienen plumas y muerden, de los que tienen bigotes y arañan. porque, aunque los Snarks comunes no hacen daño, sin embargo, considero mi deber decir que algunos son Boojums. Hemos navegado muchas semanas, hemos navegado muchos días. Siete días a la semana, supongo, pero a un verdadero Snark, a quién podríamos contemplar con amor... nunca lo hemos visto hasta ahora.
.....
Bajka in Wonderland - Bajka (2011)
Suffering - All existence is suffering. Our lives are a struggle.
Craving, Desire and Attachment cause suffering.
Ceasing Craving, Desire and Attachment is the solution. We are the solution to our own suffering.
There is a Path - Although it is our responsibility to end our own suffering, a path exists.
“We’re Here!” -- reflecting on all things Existential .
Photographic topic 71/120 is “Meditation / meditative” at 120 pictures in 2020
Entered in the May/June 2020 Mystic Challenge Group Contest, “The Buddha in Art.”
Soundtrack // Bande-son: Peter VON POEHL ("Story Of The Impossible"): www.youtube.com/watch?v=ls_-ZMuJO-k
"Whatever happened to the great escape ?... The finest ever made... (...) We have this story of the impossible... A tale best told softly... ONE OF MAKE-BELIEVE... Maybe impossible to achieve... And really close..."
"Belle représentation minimaliste des plages du Nord." (Jacques CAFFIN / www.flickr.com/photos/126603373@N08/)
"Une belle compo qui nous emmène dans les nuages !" (VINCENT / www.flickr.com/photos/58769600@N07/)
"That existential moment - captured so well in this painterly work." (Elliot MARGOLIES / www.flickr.com/photos/elliotmar/)
own texture
One last Urban Abstract. I started playing with this a couple of days ago, right after reading a novel by Camus...I guess I was having some 'existential angst' :) Thanks so much for your patience and your wonderful comments on this series!
I'll be around thru the early part of next week, and then I will be away for several weeks. Lot's of craziness in my life is coming in April.....
They stand at the edge of the ocean as the first light pushes through the remnants of night. The wet sand glows faintly beneath their feet, reflecting a sun that hasn’t yet decided whether to rise in warmth or warning. The clouds, still heavy from the night, stretch across the horizon like a veil parting just enough to let the light bleed through.
This isn’t a sunrise that sings. It whispers. And what it whispers isn’t comfort, but inevitability. They don’t move. They don’t speak. They simply stand, as if summoned, not by hope, but by obligation.
The world behind them is still dark. The world ahead is waking into something uncertain. And they remain in the thin, fragile seam between the two caught in the moment where endings quietly turn into beginnings, whether anyone notices or not.
They’re not watching the sunrise. They’re stepping into it.
My latest photography is now available for purchase at crsimages.pixels.com/, featuring prints, framed art, and more from my curated collections.
Dans le Dasein, aussi longtemps qu’il est, quelque chose qu’il peut être et qu’il sera est à chaque fois encore en excédent. Or à cet excédent appartient la «fin » elle-même. La « fin » de l’être-au-monde est la mort. Cette fin appartenant au pouvoir-être, c’est-à-dire à l’existence, délimite et détermine la totalité à chaque fois possible du Dasein. Cependant, l’être-en-fin du Dasein dans la mort et, avec lui, l’être-tout de cet étant ne pourra être inclus de manière phénoménalement adéquate dans l’élucidation de son être-tout possible que si est conquis un concept ontologiquement suffisant, c’est-à-dire existential, de la mort.
Être et Temps - Martin Heidegger
"MURMURATION" by Lalie Sorbet & Chrix @ SLEA6
www.youtube.com/watch?v=w1_TnoSbGCY
maps.secondlife.com/secondlife/SLEA6/115/132/3003
♫ Music
🎂 "Guzo’s Golden Strike and the 18-Year Mathematical Impossibility"
Hey everyone,
Today, I’m not here to present the birth of a style icon, but rather a version of Guzo who failed to rise from the ashes after a "golden strike" in the stylist’s chair (mostly because even the ashes got burnt).
As you know, today isn't just any day—it's the day the center of my universe officially becomes an adult! My dear nephew has turned 18. To him, it's "just a number" (yes, he’s much more chill and cool than I am 😎), but to me, it’s proof of how terrifyingly fast time flies and how the little boy at my side has grown into a man.
If I tried to explain how much I love him, trust me, every formula in the universe would fall short. If we tried to measure my love, mathematics would go bankrupt and calculators would throw a permanent error. It’s a love so deep it defies logic and reason.❤
Now, let’s get to the root of the problem (literally)...
For this special night, I wanted to stand by him as the "Platinum Blonde" aunt, looking like I just stepped off a runway. I wanted him to look back at these photos years from now and say, "Wow, my aunt was so stylish."✨
The Vision: Marilyn Monroe elegance.The Reality: "Private Guzo," reporting for duty and looking like I’ve lost all faith in humanity.
When I sat in that chair, I told the stylist, "Make me shine like the sun." Well, he certainly made me shine—mostly because there’s no hair left to block the reflection. When I heard that infamous "sizzle," I should have realized that it wasn't just my hair strands burning, but all my dreams of being the "cool, glamorous aunt."
My current status?
Expression: An existential crisis titled "Why do we even exist?"
Vibe: A neighborhood tough guy that makes strangers instinctively button their jackets when I walk by.
Result: A bit moody, a bit bald, but still (inevitably) here.
Even though my nephew said with his usual maturity, "Auntie, don't sweat it, it's just hair," I’m still trying to get used to this grumpy-looking stranger in the mirror. On the bright side? My showers take two minutes now, and the wind can’t mess up my hair. Because, well, there's nothing left to mess up!
Thank you for your fav's, comments & support.😚ღ♡
Despite the joy that Teilhard felt whenever he would sink into the divine milieu or perceive Christ's presence at the Heart of Matter, he also experienced, at times, a deep-seated existential terror, especially when no one else seemed to see what he was able to see (HM, 100). Always aware that this departure from the traditional might be misguided, his terror at these moments was similar to Jacob's. The path was not safe, and the outcome, unclear. Yet, Teilhard never tired of his struggle to find the ever-greater Christ who was always waiting for him just beneath the veil, just over the horizon.
-Teilhard's Struggle, Embracing the Work of Evolution, Kathleen Duffy, SSJ
While chasing bubbles around my parent's garden over the holiday... Thoughts of mortality rise and burst all around me. Occasionally coating me with existential goo (detergent and sugar, in case you didn't know ;-)
Happy 2015 to you all....wishing you a year rich in photographic treasure, wonder and friendship.
Cheers and gratitude to all....
'Gifts and the Raft' by The Cave Singers: www.youtube.com/watch?v=eplsBWNT-Og
Above the lakes, above the vales,
The mountains and the woods, the clouds, the seas,
Beyond the sun, beyond the ether,
Beyond the confines of the starry spheres,
My soul, you move with ease,
And like a strong swimmer in rapture in the wave
You wing your way blithely through boundless space
With virile joy unspeakable.
Fly far, far away from this baneful miasma
And purify yourself in the celestial air,
Drink the ethereal fire of those limpid regions
As you would the purest of heavenly nectars.
Beyond the vast sorrows and all the vexations
That weigh upon our lives and obscure our vision,
Happy is he who can with his vigorous wing
Soar up towards those fields luminous and serene,
He whose thoughts, like skylarks,
Toward the morning sky take flight
Who hovers over life and understands with ease
The language of flowers and silent things!
Charles Baudelaire - Élévation
A masterpiece of poetic imagination and aesthetic exploration. Through his use of vivid imagery, compelling language and daring metaphors, Baudelaire takes his reader on a journey through the heights of human aspiration and the depths of existential despair. Imaging himself as a bird,
soaring high in the air, free from the constraints of gravity and the limitations of the earthly realm. He speaks of his desire to "breathe in the scent of the infinite azure sky," and to "bathe in the sea of the ineffable light."
Shot with a Canon EOS 700D from the Blaauwberg Nature Reserve, Cape Town
The mirror no longer lies — it simply stopped caring. Where there was fire, there is now ash that remembers the shape of the flames. I wear this face like a costume I can never take off, painted over wrinkles that tell stories I never asked to carry. Where living and fading became the same thing, slow and without witnesses, where each dawn the hammer of a sentencing judge strikes and never absolves.
Others may have made peace with time — and I respect that silence, whatever it hides. But I cannot pretend something that does not exist inside me. This grief is mine alone, selfish and unapologetic, a pain I carry without the ability to disguise it or make it more bearable to look at. Age is not wisdom dressed in silver — it is a slow erasure, a dimming of the light I once was so certain would never go out. I look back and the road behind is longer than the road ahead, and somewhere in that arithmetic lives a darkness I have learned to call by name. The unmade.
--------------------------------------------------
Der Spiegel lügt nicht mehr — er hat lediglich aufgehört, sich zu kümmern. Wo einst Feuer war, liegt nun Asche, die sich noch an die Form der Flammen erinnert. Dieses Gesicht trage ich wie ein Kostüm, das sich niemals ablegen lässt, übermalt von Falten, die Geschichten erzählen, um die ich nie gebeten habe. Dort, wo Leben und Verblassen zu ein und demselben wurden, langsam und ohne Zeugen, wo mit jedem Morgen der Hammer eines urteilenden Richters niedergeht und niemals freispricht.
Andere mögen mit der Zeit Frieden geschlossen haben — und ich respektiere dieses Schweigen, was immer es verbergen mag. Doch ich kann nicht vortäuschen, was in mir nicht existiert. Diese Trauer gehört ausschließlich mir, eigensinnig und ohne jede Entschuldigung, ein Schmerz, den ich weder verbergen noch erträglicher gestalten kann. Alter ist keine in Silber gekleidete Weisheit — es ist ein langsames Auslöschen, ein Verblassen jenes Lichts, von dem ich einst sicher war, dass es niemals erlöschen würde. Ich blicke zurück, und der Weg hinter mir ist länger als der Weg vor mir, und irgendwo in dieser Arithmetik lebt eine Dunkelheit, die ich gelernt habe, beim Namen zu nennen. The unmade