When you are creatively bankrupt just convert it to black and white, crank the shit out of the contrast and call it "arty". Ya, that's the ticket.
I am beginning to think that either my eyes are not straight, or the sensor in my camera is not 100% level. I have a horizontal and vertical grid in my viewfinder to help me line up the scene as I am shooting, but almost invariably it is just a bit off vertical (or horizontal, depending on the orientation of the camera) when I look at the picture later.
It's probably not the camera - I have always suspected that my brain is slightly tilted. It would explain a lot about me.
Also I haven't posted any dark, angsty poetry in a long time. For no good reason, here is a dark, angsty poem inspired by today's picture. I call it Meditating On A Bowl of Rotting Cherries.
The path before me starkly lies
a concrete tomb inviting.
And from the depths I hear the cries
of souls, lost and indicting.
O shall I take this lower road
of evil and despairs
or just eschew its siren goad
and take the fucking stairs?
I believe this is the part where I am supposed to cut myself for attention, except that I don't have a knife. All I have is ten thousand spoons. Isn't that ironic?