A gaze from the past

The past. There is the past of me, the past of you, and the past of we...
Only the physical evidences and the memory, if not faily, would keep it alive. Nothing else proves it really existed...
But when you look to a picture of the "no more", what do you see? Is it a dream, a parallel existence?
Faces... this is something we are not able to mistake. Names can be mistaken, so does other logical informations... but faces are printed our minds.
As i look to this picture, i am sent back to when and where it was taken. Like it is bound to it.

All the five senses attributed to the photo's subject are revived. Time travel...
He lived, and does so no longer. But someday he did, and i can feel that un-present as i look to it, the photo...
A single piece of printed paper... but it contains life...

Reality is an illusion...
The only thing that exists, the only truth is the beauty.
We all seek for it, we die for it, we live for it...
The night sky is like a dark, pierced bed sheet. What reach our eyes thru those holes, is the truth. The star we see may not exist anymore, but we all see them gloam reachless, like my Huskie dog... like a photography of the past. What we see on the sky is the light that reach us only... We withness what is no more...
We see it's essence, that proves it existed.

For the honor and memory of that who walked aside of me and that became only essence, and thus; that existed...
The reality of past -

Huskie~

I am thou, and thou art I