Floating on a scarce path in comber ease to chiseled outcries from the radio. There has been nothing for it to clasp onto. For hours.

Passing through the sober landscape of grating sand, stately Joshua Trees, superlatively laid yellow lines, and an unsettling sacrosanct peacefulness. I’m starting to breath black blistering dust.

The radio waves begin to pick up pulsating interference fused with the brief echo’s of a preacher man’s coverted evil and unfluctuating determination to reel in lost souls. The past forces itself through. It holds tales and testimony’s of the long gone. It inconspicuously rules the desert. The desert that in silent beauty sweeps crashing waves of inaudible voices through the speakers and my mind gets submerged while I gasp for air. I give in and carry on in buoyant grace.

A somber passage presents itself in the glaring luminous world so many come to tour. It is greeted with stillness and troublesome fear as I wander on with growing intense jet-black soaring gospel playing in my head. The desert exposes its leviathan ceiling, immense solitude, and a jarring reminder of silenced voices from generations upon generations of past times. I am frightened to tune in, but can’t help to cement myself to the strange beauty, overwhelming sadness, and eternal confusion of mankind.
 

(Please loudly partake in the audio while viewing the photographs.)

 

 
 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 
 
 
 
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