It's funny how we follow the same patterns. Micro systems of understanding transcribed across scale and substance. Scratch long enough and the act of converting pain into pleasure is blighted with the evidence of your actions in blood. But this messy red stuff, or in which ever colour it may be, is the real, the carrier of life. I think we should all learn to scratch to the point of drawing blood.
Italy. 2011. One place in so many where I'd like to scratch till it bleeds.
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