There is a vile pulse in your veins; a longing for something never near you. Guilty even in your own dreams when the vortex of your desires swallow you up each night... wandering silently through broken doorways and in between the walls of abandoned rooms, you are haunted by the all consuming labyrinth within you. Gut-wrenched by the path you have taken, no longer able to blame it on innocence or lack of forethought. These are not lies to be shared with anyone, these are the places where unquenched love is kept.
These are the chasms Doug Rickard presents... so breathe it in, all you can get, love without thinking, deny all regrets.
From the 'Victor Cobo "Remember When You Loved Me" ' Highlight.
by Doug Rickard
"There is a place of inner dreams... of a love-quenched-vicious-thirst-longing that can inhabit the body, inhabit the mind and suck one inward with the relentless force of black hole gravity. The pull - it's ferocious as the fantasies grow. The isolation from society becomes a force, the separation from “the normal” is a rolling-boulder momentum. You’re here, they’re over there… you and your self - they and "the rest". Your deepening slide, the accelerating fall inward becomes your exile… an exile by yourself, within the self... to the self. The vivid dreams become all consuming... the chains latch shut while your prison grows - shaped as self imposed walls. A maze of self-built brick barriers, a mental cage of unadulterated urge. Desire, hidden beauty, secrets and open space exist but you’re all alone… the space is only the internal. Your falling-inward thoughts become your god. "
check out more words from dR on excellent photographers at American Suburb X
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