The Crematorium of Regrets and Abandoned Dreams
printed on Giclée Epson Semi-Gloss
The bleached remains of us all, a pale foetus surrounded by the ancient, desiccated bones of our dried-up dreams. Floating serenely on seas of quantum foam, waiting in resignation for the final throw of the dice, the last act of the random mind, the last illusion.
A gap opening up in the lightning flash seas and beyond that the blazing spectre of the Anti-creation, the furnace that consumes all our desires and longings. There they lie, these sullen creatures from the Id, before they are sucked once and for all into the raging fires.
All our imaginings spent. All our dreams carbonised into dust. The final night crossing into oblivion.
Shadows casting shadows.
Really, did we ever exist at all?