Photosensitive Reality

I came to a strange realization through a discordant train of thought. I was thinking first of how I dislike photo albums. They’re used as tools to remember the past, but they only remember the fake happy moments, never the sad moments. I was then drawn to my next point, that within the last week I have unearthed certain things about my past that I had all but forgotten existed, parts of me that were necessary for the person that I am to exist, and they were so buried that only then was I able to find them. It is, I believe, a matter of negative reinforcement. Human beings, and in fact all life, has a tendency to, when set upon by something causing pain or distress, suppress it, destroy it or run away from it.

This suppression of pain creates a vision of the past which at a cursory glance is a utopia. It is believing that the world is better than it is that inspires hope, for if we see that we are constantly below the curve, one could easily suppose that things will get better. But our comparison is fallacious. Hope is an illusion created by the inadequacies of our minds to fully grasp the truth. But we need it. We need this ambition to continue on our destructive path to the sad cold loneliness of death, because without it there is the truth as cold as the death that we delay.

We need the photo albums for they inspire the impression of an impartial past. Shape your own world with the sepia hues of your design.

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