The Passing Moments

Time grabs you by the hand and pulls you fast. Sometimes faster. And we don't notice at first because we're all still shocked at being alive.

The Sky Will Leave Us

Now you all travel in shells, one per a shell because you can't trust anyone. Belching thick, black smoke, too far and too shielded to be seen or recognised as human so you treat each other as aliens while those who can't afford shells stand in a mechanical tide, washing in and out in time to red and green lights.

Beggars on a black beach.

Look what you've done to my air.

The Vow Of Noise

I'll understand your silence. Because sometimes, you'll have to understand mine.

The Wet Hair And Eyes

You are a drop of perfect in an imperfect world. And all I need, is a taste.

The Remembrance Of Light

Soft earth outside, water, grass and flowers, trees above that, clouds, sky and sun, stars all the way to forever and you somewhere in the middle, remembering me where I fell. So I’ll smile when I die, no matter what they do to me. I did all I could and nothing less. Over my dead body.

The Truth Behind Glass Mountains

This isn't torture.

Torture happens in small, dark rooms in countries with names you struggle to spell.

This is just mildly unpleasant.

This isn't heroism.

Heroism happens in churches that are also schools, performed by teachers with no names and no place to stay.

This is just a good deed for the day.

This isn't loss.

Loss happens on fields filled with poppies, in hospitals buzzing with flies, in distant deserts and late at night when there's no good reason for the phone to ring.

This is just longing.

This isn't important.

Important happens on bended knees and is breathed on last breaths with hands clutched tight, hearts tighter.

This is just a distraction.

The Distance To Dreaming

If it doesn't happen magically over night, you might want to try doing it manually, every day.