2007, kaktorg005


Once upon a time. They told me. Be a citizen. If you wish. Do music. Or try to. Be happy. Or try to. But don't forget what is behind the zen, the feelings and a sense of then, in all the cities where we escape the truth while searching it there. Can we search for the truth out there or shall we look inside instead? And is it that important who loves whom for what and how? If love is one? I guess we can, that's nothing new under the sun, but more, and maybe all, we need a mirror, to see what this world and we really are, at least for a while, for a tiny moment, before it escapes and hides somewhere 2000 miles under all the subways, cables and cameras. There, weak and at the end of our hopes, we'll start to dream the dreams about dreams, about how we dream about the purpose of soul and no-soul things, if there is any difference really. Maybe this all is just our fix idea about fishes, aquarius, life in bubbles, and hope, about coming to that place. And i mean THAT place. There where we'll carry wood back to woods with stupid smile on our faces, with calm and with love. As always. Anyway.