concrete-blocks

I’m morbidly depressed, suicidal and no one gives a fuck at all. If it was cancer I’d be a hero and a “survivor”, but since it’s invisible mental problems no one cares. No medication will touch it, the only thing that cauterizes it temporarily is the black hole of drug and alcohol abyss.

All the people I want to talk to are gone, the only ones who remain don’t give a fuck or are in denial that I’m almost dead. Stop talking about it and do it. Fuck this. Life will never get better, and that’s the truth. No medication can touch it. The pain lasts until the end of time and there’s no peace. I’m so depressed and lonely. Everyone I want to talk to is gone forever. I don’t see any way out of this besides eternal silence. Wish I had a shorter gun. Bash my head in with concrete blocks and burn my guts out with acid. Nothing I’ve ever done has mattered one bit.

3

And here we come home again. This is the starter lot to end all starter lots, under $9,000 to buy, and it should be a real cheap rental. I deliberately made the house footprint very small so the player would have a lot of freedom. Make a matching unit on the other half? Start an urban truck farm? Expand this house as the inhabitant’s fortunes improve, at the expense of yard? Whatever seems good to you.

One thing’s for sure, no one’s going to want to live like this for long.

History & Motion by D E R E K C O U L L | P H O T O
Via Flickr:
Tank traps at Lossiemouth Stotfield West Beach, A long exposure using my kit lens. I saw these concrete blocks and knew I would have to photograph them with the intention of capturing some silky movement around the bases.

Concrete blocks bring back a lot of memories for me.  They held the back wall of our barn up, they made temporary barbecue pits to cook whole hogs all night, a place to crack hickory nuts open and hide action figures, the walls of a home we visited several times when I was a child in Florida, a place to sit while watching dad work on things I couldn’t be close to because of the danger, and of course mashed fingers from dropping the blocks while moving them around. All good memories.