He traveled the world looking for understanding.
this red maybe
is red wine in my vessels
instead of blood
a glass by every breath in
a glass by every breath out
There are days, tomorrows
which are made to show you
all you wondered around yesterday
what is that struggle
when I have lines I want to break into them
and when I break into them I begin drawing lines.
“Artists are not ordinated, they are usually messy because they have other things in their heads.
Those who are super clean and organised, are primitive, without any strong interest.“
Thw apartment was a total mess the whole week, you could swimg in the mass of clothes, empty bottles, used tea bags, Patricks socks and books all around.
It is mind-calming when things are in order, but there is a mysterious pleasure in the mess I cant describe.
In a city with no hills
his existence gives me perspective.
his thoughts pass by and cleanse themselves
not so often
he shares them with me with refiend words he has been searching for over minutes
i hear them, by the moment they reach my ears
they sound like little crystal balls.
You know that you are having a special day when every hour is taking longer than 60 minutes .You can feel it, and atomic watches cant convince you wrong about it.
However, I cant say the granted time, on a day longer than usual, made me not consume every minute of it.
It is one of those slow days at home, with a lot of comfortable silence.
everthing smells special.
It is taking me a lot of cash
to know that I don’t need to own things,
I don’t need to own much.
It is taking me a lot of people,
to know that not every soul, would feel every song.
a lot of flights to know that I don’t need to stay, I don’t need to belong.
I am losing a lot and I am missing a lot
only to know that at the end, nothing is mine.
It is taking me thousands of dark nights
to know that at the end of each,
the sun will shine.