I couldn't find them, the photos taken 3 years ago, from a trip I had been longing for all my life.
There were fifty seven of them. I can still remember every frame, every agony caused by the city of my dreams; the city of neon lights.
I was deceived by my delusional state of mind, not knowing what life was good for me. My soul was homeless and had no substitute for belonging. Every picture taken in every corner, from every angle, was coming back to me as the autumn of grief.
The bright colours appeared black and white with the shades blurred between fantasy and reality.
E.Y
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