Photography: Carl Joyce
Www.carljoyce.co.uk
But what if the past was so heavy that it almost feels as if it's still here? What if the past was so weighty that even the slightest attempts to move forward and step out of it would still drag it along somehow?! Like the inevitable roll of the ball that follows the move of the chain...normally made of iron...
It's hard to dilute the taste of metal and the strong smell of cheap locally made cigarettes...
It's hard to melt the remains of an iron past, which linger around not only physically,
But emotionally too.
As if every sphere of life is still paralysed by the weight of a dictatorship long gone...yet there...
Dullness and uniformity are omnipresent.
And oppressing. Reminding of sameness - so actively triggered by the ideology praised for half a century.
The Ideology that turns you into just another brick in the wall...
