It was a mission to reach the little fire. The ignition didn't aid the healthy light expressed by the noon. There were laughter, the family present. The insects moved in the good old time, sliding through the tunnel into the burrow; the setting in a garden of green and dead leaves. The focus shifted. Running started and I was bit by the ants. All were bitten by the ants. No one reached the end.
Erika Ruiz | 13:49 |
on the other side
Weightless Overbearing
The pensive nothingness decenters the path of a dream with rigor, mirth and irony. Highly possible as the feeling of pondering while breathing soothes the burden of the being; like seeing the entire spectrum of light and darkness, fishing on a sunken castle lake of a setting, free with delirium and wine.
Play the music below if you want.
a portrait hole
Erika Ruiz
19 [27 August 1990]
Manila, Philippines
dreams inspire me
surrealist dissection
By the way, this is just for the expression of and for the self; so as to escape, be fit for a refuge. Non-fiction and surrealism might often insert itself. This is a storage of the raw.