Imagine a void. A vast sea of emptiness and formless darkness. Like a disease. It sits there breathing, brooding, growing. It is ruthless in its desire to survive, to live. A void that breathes and grows and lives in all of us. A shapeless darkness that gives us form. Part parasite, part host.

All of our affairs are a collision of voids. A collision from which we hope to chip away the rough edges and produce fine geometries. Beautiful emptiness. From falling in love or asleep on a shoulder, to catching dreams drift between stops. Attempts at giving form to a shapeless void. Sometimes we succeed, sometimes we don’t.
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The above is part of a short story I published today. To read the rest(that's the only way to understand the full picture), please visit:https://medium.com/literally-literary/dreams-love-and-happiness-b5c681599901

You think people will visit that link?

Bukunming:
You think people will visit that link?

Who knows?

MrRothstein:
Who knows?

Goodluck then.

Bukunming:
Goodluck then.

Thanks, do you write?

MrRothstein:

Thanks, do you write?

Not like I used to. The camera has taken over the pen.

Bukunming:
Not like I used to. The camera has taken over the pen.

Interesting. Photography or film making?

MrRothstein:
Interesting. Photography or film making?

Photography sir.

MrRothstein:
Interesting. Photography or film making?

Photography sir.