Friends Of Our Generation

11 November 2014
The places we visit. Some for a long time others for a short while. They say two is company as it never becomes crowded. We live in a world of judgemental eyes. Ones that scan us like bar codes to see if we have physically expired, ready to be taken off the shelf and prepared for consumers. Where do we go? Where should we go? That is not an issue. The spaces we occupy like vultures welcome us like plague. We sit, we drink, we live. That is the physical.
Mentally we are attached to freedom and expression as creative users, communicating our frustration for abandonment. We came from the place where all air is clear and all water is like liquid purity. And now we walk and waltz through thick fog that latches to our backs like shadows that need to be sewn on. The water makes us cold. We are constantly hit by brick walls instead of the endless horizon.
Yet we go on. We tremble and shake like old houses with broken roofs. Together we are builders that revive and restore to strengthen our limp structures into hotels that can shelter those who get rained on. We care not for the authority that keep us from walking, but for the privilege of awakening to three thousand knots per hour, in the seven days of sea that we sail.
We are friends of our generation.

Instant analogue by Tim Sprague and Sam Alexander. Special thanks to IMPOSSIBLE.


Words By Sam Alexander .

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