Van Gogh.
He lies in bed and stares at the ceiling. Cracks that started small grew with time and now cover the milky white layer of plaster that separate him from the starry night. He begins to associate this with his life. Closed in by flawed walls, he continually feels isolated and alone. Some of the problems he has encountered have turned into plagues of which he can’t escape, and it is in these gloomy cracks that they thrive. He is kept from the happiness he desires by the walls he has imprisoned himself behind.
2 responses
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caitlin rams gave props (6 Oct 2007):
the shadow is perfect.. good stuff
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Matt Rastovik gave props (14 Oct 2007):
This is the $% Tara i love it










