A camera can capture a lifetime, or a few.
You stand behind the crystal clear lense, looking through the hole of immortality.
Forever captured at this moment, as this person, in this place.
Ugly, beautiful, rain, or snow the camera doesn't care.
It has no filter, no room to judge.
The wires intertwine with the souls of memories and the straps wrap tight around your neck, caressing you as you take your hundredth picture.
Ten, twenty, thirty, forty years from now, you can look back and see that little kid you used to be, crawling, running, playing.
You can almost taste the freedom you desired so much.
You see the people you love and the ones you loved.
It’s a time machine, but not giving you the chance to fix what went wrong.
It has strong feelings that come with it but yet it's so fragile.
The disorder of one thing could ruin your time machine, you immortality forever.
Replay it thousands of times but you will be stuck in the present.
Abandoned and lonely.
Isolated from what was and what will be.
But this is a good amount of people.
Destroyed by the tap of a thumb and the click of the shot.
You can’t think too much about the filter humans put on the world.
We aren’t fake, we don’t live in Instagram, Facebook, or on a phone that we switch 4 months after we get it because we want to be updated like everyone else.