Photos Like This

I take-and-make photos like this and I hiss at myself for all the moments during the day that I lament my boredom, my doldrums, my strife, my ennui and all the times that I feel as if there is a big hole in my life.

How can I be so bold as to complain? Why am I so vain? Wherefore do I feel I deserve more, when I already have a lot more than most?

Shouldn’t I be elated by the notion that I can see things invisible to other eyes? Shouldn’t I be happy to see that my photos magically capture the great emotions I feel, the sentiment that life is wonderful and people are beautiful and I am far more fortunate than I was originally allotted to be?

Shouldn’t I?

in the beginning .00 daily archives

l.m