Not for the summer as a season - you know how much I like winter. But for the sun and rays as change. Hope. Safety. Time for myself and for my soul. Maybe new beginnings. New roads towards my Ithaca. And maybe learning to trust again. Breathing, breaking down all those walls and windows (as Woolf said of someone else). And believing in something.
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Blue January
This too, shall pass … The phrase that I keep repeating to myself during these days. " I was bruised and battered I couldn't tell w...
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In its deepness, warmth and happy moments. In its turmoil, and sadness, and scars, and irony. Water which we love and cherish, daring to wa...
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Şsst! E calm aici. O ţară fără soare, fără clădiri, fără oameni. Ca un peron al lui Paler. Şi aici nisipul încă mai e ud de valurile unui p...
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Lumea e plina de superstitii si de clisee. Americanii sunt intr-un fel, blondele sunt in alt fel, tiganii sunt asa. Ne aruncam unii altora n...
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