pe taramul vagoanelor libere..

sunt unele trenuri, pe care, daca nu le prinzi, vei mai astepta in gara degeaba.
sageata albastra vine rar si nu circula pe orice ruta.
vin o data sau de doua ori dupa trenul tau pustiu si ideal.
iar tu ai un bilet pe care scrie: o singura calatorie
nu poti sa fugi dupa el, nu il poti prinde orice-ar fi
e alb si negru, cu zabrele gri
si arse de soare
de la gri…la alb..
ca ambalajul de cafea din vitrina unui chiosc
de pe litoral
sunt alterate

Sau poate nu vrei sa il prinzi. caci nu te reprezinta.

18.

‘what have i become, my sweetest friend? everyone i know goes away, in the end. and you can have it all, my empire of dirt…i will let you down, i will make you hurt.”

it’s about this.

i grew. and i changed a lot over the years, but my smiling has remained constant and will do until the day i die

i’ll always appreciate all that is beautiful and strange in the same quantity.

and have tons of written sheets of paper around me. and  do many things at the same time.

i’ll always be both a dreamer and a realist.and i’ll never lower my dreams. i’ll never quite get working under deadlines’ pressure.

i’ll always take my bike and go on hills. i’ll always love color and undiscovered places.

and i’ll always laugh of  some kind of normality and gossip.

that’s the  ‘me’ that will stay…