I am the guardian of memories
I am the gatekeeper to what has been
I am the captor
The sentinel of moments of true spontaneity
In this cesspool of industrially fabricated frames
For life's ever fleeting sincerity must be preserved in all of it's colors
My path on this world has never wavered until now
My role in this chaotic theater of life has always been so clear to me
But I'm struggling to accept this ending
What's the point of a show if in the end there is no audience, actors, or theater?
Nothing, and no one to prove it ever existed at all
I wish I understood it more
I wish I could make sense of it all
But I supposed the only thing I truly know is that when The Negative get's here, it will change everything
Heh, I've caught myself daydreaming about it a lot lately
What will this new world look like?
Will the stars still twinkle in the night sky?
Will the same colorful vibrancy still reflect in the light?
Will humanity even exist in this new macrocosm, or will we be expunged with rest of it?
I'd like to imagine it would be more like a pentimento
A new universe sprawled over the canvas of what once was
Leaving clues just under the surface
The tiniest shred of evidence of what existed before?
But it's impossible to stay confident in that idea when my expectations are everything and nothing all at once
All I know is that whatever it is that's going to happen, it's going to be soon, and it will happen in the blink of an eye
I took the last photo I will ever take the other day
It was a beautiful day
I was walking through the park during the golden hour
I notice this feeble old man, and behind him dragged this old tattered dog leash
It was vacant
There was no dog
Yet his hand held onto this leash with such conviction
It infuriated me
The pointlessness of it
I snapped a picture, and then without even thinking, I threw my camera, smashing it into pieces on the ground
I've always had a gift for distinguishing moments of truth
And I've always known my purpose was to capture and preserve those moments so they can be remembered
But what is the point?
What is the point of preserving these moments?
What was the point of that fucking dog leash?
I recognized the same undeniable truth I saw in The Negative that I've seen in all of the pictures I've ever captured
Since then, time has haunted me every second of every day
It lingers above my head like a dark cloud
Heavy, with powerful devastation ready to storm down upon the unsuspecting arrogance below
I know The Negative is real, I know it's coming fast, and I know it's coming soon
Everything will be gone
Everything will be gone
Nobody is ever gonna hear this
I don't even know why I'm record-