Through this page, I have been invited to share some of the writings that will follow over the course of the next couple of months. I am not real, yet somehow someone real managed to get in touch with me, draw me over to the other side, with the use of this page. I suppose they picked up on my intentions to visit some soon-to-be ruins in the European continent, and that this will be of interest to them. You can read more about me somewhere on the side in a little box, as we’re all used to, if you’re really that intrigued.
The real story, however, lies in the journey I am about to embark on, of which can be learned in the first post to come. (This is in fact the very personal and embarrassingly prying letter I had written to my long-lost uncle, which I suspect to have been intercepted by the organization that approached me for this blog. Figured I beat them to the punch, have dinner for lunch, and share it with you myself.)
Thank you for reading, joining, following, tweaking, ridding, digging, sharing, caring, swearing, jazzing, swinging, dancing, doing what you like best…I’m just happy to know you’re alive. My world is about to fall apart, the one where you don’t exist, but really, you are alive and well. I’m happy. Please live long, and know that art is your respirator.
– IG Karfield
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