the photographer

I was here before. At the time, thinking about coming to an end. This time, remembering and thinking about the same, but from a very different perspective. About not wanting to, about fear, about ifs and whys. With a guilty conscience, almost. Frightened conscience. Guilty for allowing myself to think about my end and try to come to terms with it. To accept the idea. Not that I ever succeeded, in accepting the idea. Perhaps […]