I don't really want to go too into details, but I recently found out that my mother has incurable cancer. In a few weeks, the family finds out generally how much time she has left. I wrote a draft post on this the other day and deleted it, and every time I've tried to find something to write about I just have zero interest. The thoughts never go. The desire to do pretty much anything is gone. I don't know if or when I'll end up posting anything again, but for once I just have no words to really share. Usually I can find something about what I've been up to, what I've stumbled across, where I have been and the rest. But it's just all gone. The camera still goes with me anywhere I go, but I almost don't feel like using it. I try to here and there, though the effort it takes to adjust settings feels far too consuming of mind and body to get to the point of pressing the shutter.
Naturally, everything feels a bit shit. The weather is shit. The events around me have been shit. The wearing down of my boots that rub against the feet has been shit. My sleep? That has been dreadfully shit. Not all of these feelings come from the recent news, many things just have happened all at once or slowly different things have been eating away at me. When it's all combined, it's just one massive kick between the legs to keep me down, I suppose. I've tried to get up and walk, I don't like being at home, and being at home only exacerbates the thoughts. Of which I have started to grow a certain numbness to. I haven't had much to do to keep me occupied as well, a project I had going ended a week ago. And I've had general talks with people regarding some shoots that I just do not have the motivation for. More in the stages of talks rather than anything of certainty. And that's just not what I need at the moment. Still, miserably roaming the empty and grey streets has its appeal in comparison to sitting indoors doing nothing.
With how I feel I don't think I will share much more photography from here on. I still like taking pictures but I don't have a whole lot of social energy, I have little interest in showing anyone anything or talking to people. And the last thing I want to be doing is putting on a facade. Maybe I'll slowly come around and get back into posting. Maybe at some point finding some more distraction will improve my want to write about whatever. I don't know. But as things stand right now, I just don't have this in me at all.
But to finalise this, here is a chemical test result from an abandoned laboratory. A piece of paper forty years old, written up in the former Armenian SSR. I think of who one placed the ink to the paper. Whether they themselves are around still. And whether they ever thought that their work would end up both in the cold dark halls of a neglected building, not as prosperous as once seemed. And when those doors of the laboratory finally closed that final evening, did they ever consider a possibility of returning back? Or did another door open as that previous one had closed?