A Cake Walk at Bathory's

There's beauty in the grotesque. But not because I have anything to do with either the beauty or the grotesque in the things I "observe" like a fucking ledge walker. And I can't even separate them, the beautiful and the grotesque. I only have my hands which have done good and terrible things to haul in my ethereal load. I have my eyes which show me what the atmosphere chooses to show me when I choose to keep them open. I have my mind which develops the film it is given and the processing is subject to the quality of supplies and environment.. which means... the final picture is just a picture by just one more person. I will always have my mind and my hands and my equipment, so what good does it do to pretend I can grow and share thoughts with others? Others are one more product of a string of developments who may or may not have had all the chemicals to bring out the grays. Dimensional. Totally dimensional. Why the questions. Why the hope. Why the fuck do I use blogger.

Gag.