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...
Monday, June 30, 2008
Saturday, June 28, 2008
A ray of sunshine
Thursday, June 26, 2008
Faraway
Οταν ενας αγγελος κατεβηκε στη γη, ειδε αυτο:
Each one creates his own world within his own vision and hearing.
He remains a prisoner in it.
And from his cell, he sees the cells of others.
They, humans, are confined by what’s visible, Raphaela.
Only what they can see matters. It’s all they believe in.
Tuesday, June 24, 2008
Wings
a time to every purpose under heaven.
There is a time to be born
a time to die
a time to kill
a time to heal
a time to weep
a time to laugh
a time to seek
a time to keep silent
a time to speak
a time to love
a time to hate
a time for conflict.
Sunday, June 22, 2008
At the Arctic Circle
This is where the Arctic Circle runs.
There the sun won´t go down in the summer.
That´s the midnight sun.
I wish I were born without a tongue,
that way I would have an excuse.
I'll wait here as long as it takes. I wait on the greatest luck in my life.
I have known a lot of different kinds of luck.
Luck runs through my life like a continuous thread.
It's good that life passes in circles. But mine consists of one circle,
and not even a complete one.
The most important is missing.