The best part of a divorce is that you get to do whatever you want and whenever you want. So nowadays I get to pop that Xanax, flush it with a “bit” of scotch and off I go, wandering around my area in the evening and observing yet again that I live in an actual wasteland. Hence this #myphoto Honest to gods, this is one of the nicest areas of my city but somehow I find those relics of the olden days, falling apart legacy of long forgotten people squished in between large areas of sprawling construction sites. I could swear that years ago I saw lights in the windows of some of those 100 years old houses but some of them haven’t been lit in months and I kind of wonder if there is a rotting corpse of an old person in there. If there is, can I get in and take a picture? I mean I know how to pick locks but it’s kind of a grey area even for me. Maybe I would be hailed as a hero or something if I sold it as being a concerned neighbor? But how would I explain posting a photo of a dead body on #Minds after that? Man, life is a conundrum, it’s hard being an artist these days and trespassing is even harder than it used to be, I think Lexapro is fucking with my fine motor skills and I can’t climb over walls as well as I used to do. Which reminds me - about 15 years ago after downing half a bottle of absinth I have fallen off a wall surrounding an old nunnery because I wanted to see what’s on the other side, the building was like 300 years old at least. 4 meters fall, flat on my back, a miracle I didn’t break anything. I got over the wall on my second try only to almost jump onto a massive dog house, that would be bad. So I just balanced my way out of that clusterfuck by tiptoeing on top of that wall until I found a good place to jump back. This is actually a true story and I have no idea why I am telling you this. Oh and by the way, this is taken with Fujifilm X-T3 and Fujinon 23mm 1.4, great lens. I am slowly coming back from my hiatus, more to come. #photograph...