GRAPHITE
It is true that in the end everything fades to gray
not only colors but brightness as well...
Black and white merge at the point
you can no longer distinguish
true from false and evil from good
both sides of dualities look the same
and reality loses its meaning
in a sinister ambiguity.
I'm glad to know I can call myself a full-fledged son of postmodernism, of its contraddictions, of its schizophrenia, of the destructive individualism...
Son of people raised on modernist precepts and values and hence instruced to reproduce those obsolete models in a world that's constantly changing on an ever faster rate.
Come to the antechamber of manhood I wonder what fruits are left to harvest.
--Hawke Isaacs
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