Though abondoned, they still hold memories.
a series on abandoned places.
Fun to look at.
a series on abstract visualizations.
These worlds don't exist.
a series on 3D work.
Have you seen the world this way?
a series on capturing reality.
Hi. I'm Ditollo. I have a passion in creative coding, making things and AI agents!
You can contact me at the.ditollo@gmail.com
In my dream I drank Apollo's wine,
And at once everything was just fine.
But the more I drank the emptier I got,
For I knew the wine would last not.
Unable to sit in Apollo's throne and pour the wine,
Doomed to drink by myself, the pleasure was all mine.
There's a rose in the barn
Next to the horse's hoove
It wasn't smelled today
Nor was it yesterday
The horse rests for now
And maybe even tomorrow
Though if it were to wake
Where would its weight fall?
Perhaps a visitor will come
Running just to see the red
Yet I doubt one will appear
With the doors all locked tight
Tonight, my toothbrush felt foreign in my hand,
Was the change in me or it, I couldn't understand.
Though the mirror insisted on a familiar sight,
I knew my mind was eroded, by isolation and spite.
Brushing felt odd, in the silent night,
Certain I'd remain unknown, in my own sight.
I remember what it was like before it reigned over the world. It had always been there. Always lurking, like moss growing on a tree, like water eroding a stone, like a corpse decomposing. We should've seen it coming, but we were so mesmerised by its boots, by its pants and by those pesky Prada sunglasses.
It knew our weakness: we haden't recognised why the hands spin yet.
When it took over, everyone expected it, so we welcomed it. In fact, we were content that it finally won. Now, no one believes me. No one realizes we once lived without it. No one tries to escape its dance. I have to warn them.
the clouds watch,
the ground holds on,
the sunflower yearns,
the trees sigh,
and time carries me.
Someone's lying,
Me, myself or I.
I think I found the culprit,
But I must know why.
After a long questioning,
Realised the blame's mine,
So I pull the trigger,
And now the self is gone.
At night,
I sat with my flashlight.
"surely it'll come back the same time", I thought
what does it find in the dark that it doesn't at light?
the solace of shadows, freedom from its own sight?
so I'll let it dream on its own, it's only right
The wind mocks me as it blows
The sun laughs as it shines
"We told you so" they cry
"Yet still, you didn't try"
I hang my head in shame
I wouldn't know who to blame
"Try again" the sun laughs
As the wind takes all from my grasp
Does anyone else feel this way
I ask
As my words search for their purpose
As I stroke the haggard stray dog
As I gaze upon the washed-out colors of a rose
As I see you on the porch, cigarette in hand
As I stop hearing the finches sing
But I won't listen for a response
To bear the burden of accepting solitude
So I choose to forget I ever saw you
There's a man I've been avoiding
I see him on busy roads
Peering through the crowd
Though I cannot tell his intentions
His gaze freezes me to my core
A smirk like scavengers pecking at my soul
There's a man I've been avoiding
He waits silently at night
Watching me from the sidewalk
No matter where I went
How much I bruised my eyes
He's always there, in my peripheral
Maybe one night I'll go up to him
Shake his hand and meet him
Perhaps I'll enjoy his company
But for now I'll just run and hide
Taste of metal in my throat,
Washed up nails, coins and coil.
A reminder of all I had swallowed,
All my sorrow and all my toil.
No excuse to be myself yet,
I'll bury all of this beneath the soil.
Maybe I'll grow into a tall oak,
Maybe I'll make my rose spoil.
I plucked a flower from her field,
And planted it in mine.
I couldn't bear a rotten garden,
I can't take back what I've done.
So I spoiled, Her rose, her love,
All that was pure, that sacred dove.
Does my troubled ghost still haunt you?
Cause your sunflower still makes me blue
Does Icarus dream of the sun
When he's hung low, among mere mortals
Does he miss that beautiful blinding burning heat,
That painful shattering of dreams?
To relive the past, to feel what has passed,
Does Icarus burn his wings and tear down his limbs?
I walked and walked and walked
Till I reached the end of all I was taught
What I knew, no more than a shadow under the sun
All my thoughts, all my essence, gone
I wanted to hold on, to keep something that was mine
But of-course, drowning was way more fun
It's awaiting me, somewhere I can't see
I'll turn myself in and be anything it wants me to be
