Every stifled good girls grow up to be wild ones. parents will point their fingers, telling them that they've sacrificed enough, but they think that all they've given them are only bags of stones, and blames which should only descend to flames.
Blazing in the flow of time, sometimes I think I can fly. walking out of the theater, all I can hear are the thudding voices of the empty chairs as they leap back to their original positions. Life is a big, big parade; a circus full of players of lies.
We are all growing up longing for wisdom, but in the end most of us are bewildered by the wild concept of death, and the overrated thoughts of freedom. All of us will grow up with a single, constant thought that our minds need to be simplified.
photography by devina
