March 30, 2010


if something breaks nothing can glue it back - not to make the breaches disappear. but we can keep the remained parts. and the memory of it. and move on - with it...


Another rainy night will came. The atmosphere was gold somehow... It was like you were seeing the world through golden sunglasses.
Sparrows and swallows were hunting for bugs. People were spitting cherry seeds. Someone looking out from the window. Another gone out to the ground. Something must have been in the air.
Swallows came back and brought their gnats back.
That's life, how it has to be.
And we play every day. Every hours of the day and every minute of them. We play because we need the applause, and need the roses in front of our feet. The bad critics and the good friends. To be there fir them, to be spectators. To feel that someone's playing for us. For our pleasure. To make us laugh or even cry.
To make you feel alive...


not the morning's passaway and not the towarding evening causes those moods... but the time what seems to be too fast, the time, what goes by always. with or without us.

suggestion - for life

paint your veil, paint the sky with the colour of the spring, let your hands be colour-full...

March 15, 2010

while i was holding a scarf in the wind

sometimes when we let something go we'll never find it again...