Hi. Welcome to Gloome.
Have you ever felt that life is hard? Have you decided that it’s is meaningless? Maybe you think that unfairness is fundamental to life. That people die. That flowers wither. That the nostalgic mist of the past lurks everywhere, in the smell of rain, in yellowed pages of old books, in a cup of tea made just right, swirling in the whirlpool of her iris, lazing in the wrinkles of fresh laundry, peeling oranges sunbathing reading books humming distant melodies of a past so far away that it precedes your prenatal memories and carries all the meaning to your life if only you could put a finger on it then you’d be complete.
Yeah, that. At Gloome, we want to forget all that. Even if it’s just for few minutes. We like to escape to a world where that demented spirit of past doesn’t haunt and the feral future doesn’t spy. Where there is no such word as meaning. Where you and I are eternal sprits like the moon.
At Gloome we want to sit down under the canopy of that lone tree which stands to give you shelter. We want to take off our shoes and rest our bare feet on the green meadows soft and warm. We want to talk to that friend without a name and a face about inconsequencial things. We want to listen to that faint buzz of the stream nearby and count the butterflies and under the cotton candy clouds disburden the weight of life.