Loosing sight of the eternal garden can be devastating at best.
What drives me insane are the catastrophic perplexities of those closed souls with whom i have drank from the pure fountain of harmony.
As long as there is a maze the mouse will prevail.
But when enclosed and quartered my health will fail.
The enigmatic loss of vision and its accompanying diverse avenues of existence cause this lockdown-hysteria.
If one can only get a glimpse of the freeing sun, driving down the freeway, looking solely up;
one could sidestep some of the unnecesary yet not dramatic emotional incumberances and overtones associated with casual emotive calamities, whose necesities generaly comes from the need to shift focus from the victim to the envictor.
An overload of climatic pressure couldn't.
Claustrophobia of space within.
Zeige deinen Freunden, dass dir Claustrophobia von Serart gefällt:
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