Alternate:Words

Now we are shells, originally uploaded by Thorsten Becker.

We're moving, but not by our own design
Shuffling towards the finish line
It's illusive, shifting, tilting
There, on the shores of plenty

We desire, we want, we need
Yet we do not understand
Nor do we seem to realize
That we lost ourselves, our lives
Abandoned what we once held dear
Thinking "Isn't it all now oh so clear?"

We left the deeper things
That which we called pressure
The burden of knowledge old
For shallower waters, so bold
Easier lives and quicker gain
"Surely it's not in vain, there's no disdain"
Lured by the sounds of laughter
Empty promises they were thereafter

Now we are shells
Shells without a soul
Without a goal
Thrown hither and thither
By the waves of uncertainty

Won't we ever learn?
Oh how we yearn
To reach that finish line
Which neither is
Nor ever was
As out here, outside
Out of our element
We're no longer eloquent
And nothing is what it seems

© Thorsten Becker

A found image, not arranged in any way or form (photoshopped for a more saturated effect). Just two empty shells, but their position to each other conjured up an image of one shell pointing towards a finish line. The next wave completely rearranged them, pulling the one to the upper left further out again. Looking at the photo I felt a certain sense of melancholy, contemplating all the things we think we gain when we leave what we know behind for something “better”, something “easier” only to realize we are completely out of our element now, lost and thrown about by waves, waves of uncertainty.

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