Camera Obscura - Poem by A.R. Brixton
to be in the unlit bedroom,
and watch the gleaming world outside,
is the closest one can get,
to understanding despair;
it is not depression or despair itself,
since you have made it like that,
but when told, when explained what it is,
quite gives a good analogy to good'ol despair.
the camera obscura, is splendorous,
when you were the creator of such thing,
when you have managed to impress
a part of the real and moving world onto blank walls;
imagine, to be able to watch the happy children
and their families, and toy pets, smiles and giggles,
while laying awake on your bed,
entangled in strange knots made of sheets.
one can be shaking, withdrawn,
on the verge of tears,
and still wrapped in the commonness
of what lies outside
it gives us, above all things,
a sense of detachment,
you are, at the same time,
apart of it and out of it;
depression is quite like a
but when it is not depression,
it can be a rather charming thing.
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