I wish I could capture this window view on camera. But there’s something wonderful about human vision that no picture can imitate. And here I am.

This year has been something short of everything. I found bits and pieces of what I was looking for, but there’s still a missing chunk on the canvas. There’s hints of colour, strewn out more evenly during the latter strokes. Yet I could not tell you this story. It lacks heart, ambition, and faith.

I’ve always had a drive that was fueled by such things. Yet, this collection of eight months barely scrapes the edge of my desires.

A mind filled with hollow dreams and youthful fantasies, a vision of city lights.

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