Where is the Promised Light?

Finding images are nice. I get to look at images, hoping I could have been in them. The laughs and angles. Thinking about things in the photographer's mind. I ultimately want to write. You took me in because of my voice, and that felt like it was worth it all. But now I have this feeling, here too, I will overflow.

It's a nice title I should say though, a nice title to create an illusion of the place we don't actually belong in. Outsiders we are. Having a sense of your reality, rather a taste. Made to sign on a line, saying it's enough. Being indicated to. We pretend like you belong but remember, you actually don't.

Where is the Promised Light?