The story I'm going to tell, is not my story.
It is the story of someone, who is telling a story which is very similar to his own.
The dream I will remember, won't be mine.
It's the dream of someone who remembers a dream, that is very similar to his own.
I think of stories I like to make stories.
To tell them. I know this must sound like the dream of little Iasonas. What will he be when he grows up.
When I wake up, it'll happen again.
It'll start all over...
Thursday, April 05, 2007
Η Αθηνα που ολοι αγαπαμε
Οι αγγελοι βρισκονται παντου μπερδευονται στο πληθος κρυβονται παντου
Η μαγεια συνεχιζεται με τα φωτα της
τη δημιουργικοτητα της
η μονιμη εμμονη μου με τους διακοπτες
και θα τελειωσω με τις τεχνες της ενα αυθεντικο γιαπωνεζικο χαρακιρι