If someone were to watch me surfing porn, they would understand that it’s not about an attraction to a woman. It’s not about a woman. It’s about infinity and death, mortality, vitality.
I know some would feel shame and contempt and disgust. But if they understood it, maybe what they would feel is sympathy, empathy, compassion.
Featured image prompt (gemini): Dim hotel corridor shot on 35mm film, late at night, empty and slightly wrong — a long vanishing-point hallway lit by a single amber wall sconce, the light pooling unevenly on worn geometric carpet, a heavy door at the far end left fractionally ajar, darkness beyond it absolute. The perspective is low and slightly tilted, the walls pressing in, the corridor stretching into an uncomfortable infinity. A room-service tray sits abandoned near the baseboard, a single glass still upright, a napkin half-fallen. The color is oversaturated amber bleeding into shadow, the ceiling lost in darkness, the far door’s sliver of black carrying all the weight of the image.
Bottom image prompt (gemini): Dim hotel corridor shot on 35mm film, late at night, empty and slightly wrong — a long vanishing-point hallway lit by a single amber wall sconce, the light pooling unevenly on worn geometric carpet, a heavy door at the far end left fractionally ajar, darkness beyond it absolute. The perspective is low and slightly tilted, the walls pressing in, the corridor stretching into an uncomfortable infinity. A room-service tray sits abandoned near the baseboard, a single glass still upright, a napkin half-fallen. The color is oversaturated amber bleeding into shadow, the ceiling lost in darkness, the far door’s sliver of black carrying all the weight of the image.