Photoliftus

I have nothing new to write, my senses are void of emotion. I am at the giant wall, once called photoliftus, but now it stands there, blank and hideous. As I confront this wall I am frightened, not by the shear expanses of it, but much more the void of details it creates. This is no ordinary wall, it has been known to eat artists who venture too close. And now here I am, on the edge, questioning all of my work before this point. This wall is not just an end, but it is the deciding point between art, and mechanical logic. On either side is the fruit of the imaginations of millions, but if you look closely you can see the faces of thousands of expressionless persons, perfectly content with their spot on the wall. No. I will not become one, even if it means losing my mind to keep my art, sacrifices will be made, but I will never sacrifice my freedom of thought.