blip

The temporal aspect of human relations has become more and more abused as time passed. Things are simply not the same as they were in Austen’s time. Strangers stepping in to form momentary blips in each other’s lives. We come and go, break things apart and put them back together until the pieces simply do not fit any longer. What purpose does that serve though? At the end of the day, aren’t we all looking for the next person to dump our baggage on and leave anyways?

The image is Frida Kahlo’s Diego On My Mind. I miss being able to see art.