30.6.13

A Lesson

Child: And what lies beyond those broken hills?
Man: Nothing but a sea of forgotten wet-dreams.

#304

And here we are
at the prime of our youth:
beautiful, lonely and lost.

27.6.13

Trip To Andro

June 7th, 2013









25.6.13

This Is The Game

Fuck furious,
close your eyes
and rejoice.

20.6.13

Home, Again, At Last

I've been travelling around a lot lately. It's been a few weeks, I've already got myself the craziest tan ever! Anyway, the sunsets are always exquisite. Everyday. It feels great to be back home again.


13.6.13

Excuse Me, While I Cut The Cake

Yesterday I got a day... a year older. I spent the whole morning sitting, waiting for the doctor in the hallway. I had gone back there to find my roots. Sadly, there was nothing left for me there. Later in the evening two of my very close friends showed up unannounced with a big white box - a huge cake. It was a pleasant surprise. Really. I wasn't planning to celebrate. 

I invited them to stay for dinner. I always invite people to stay for dinner. Afterwards, as we've done a million times before, we sat down on the front porch and talked leisurely about our lives - the things we have left behind, the friends that we have lost touch with and the eternal darkness called tomorrow. It was a supernatural high. 

Anyway, I found this picture, taken on my birthday two years ago. Excuse me for the nudity, things got way out of hand way too soon. Come to think of it, I'm getting too old for these things. I might have to take this one down. Hah. 

Cheers
Ben


9.6.13

Because We Are Here, After All

cry : because we've all been fucked hard by misery
laugh: because we're all young, all alone and lost

7.6.13

CLICK

New addition. I'm not much of a Sony fan (at least when it comes down to cameras)  but got this one anyway; it is pretty light and handy. Will be posting new photos soon. Keep checking this space. Cheers. 


4.6.13

Unkept



These round thy bowers their cheerful influence shed
These were thy charms — but all these charms are fled.

— Oliver Goldsmith, The Deserted Village