I can buy myself flowers...

Life is like riding a train. The journey begins when we buy our ticket, board and take our seat. We meet people along the way of which some are strangers, some friends and some strangers yet to be friends. There are stops and more and more people fill up the crowded space. At times some of them make their presence felt, while on other occasions they remain indifferent, or worse, quite destructive. But then it is important for some of them to make an exit, to get off at the next stop and walk the paths they were destined to because if they never left, then we would feel suffocated and confused, the purpose of the journey would lose its essence and it would altogether be neither worthwhile nor smooth.

I believe in the theory of chaos. What it means is that everything that happens in this moment is an accumulation of everything that's come before it. Every breath. Every thought. There is no innocent action. Some even end up having the force of a tempest. Their impact cannot be missed. Others are the blink of an eye. Passing by unnoticed. Perhaps only the universe knows which is which. You can think that what you've done is only the flap of a butterfly wing, when it's really a thunderclap. And both can result in a hurricane.

Write my name in the sand...

I bet we'll see stars...

I must down to the seas again, 

to the lonely sea and the sky,

And all I ask is a tall ship,

and a star to steer her by.

Inevitably, though, there will always be a significant part of the past which can neither be burnt nor banished to the soothing limbo of forgetfulness. Especially when it comes to issues of oneself. I guess in a sense I was and still am that same ship which carried me to new shores, the same vessel containing all the memories and dreams of that little scared boy, who was running so fast in the night, he didn't notice that he was nowhere near home. I am the shore I left behind as well as the house I search for every evening. The voyage cannot proceed without me. And it is once again at hand.

Hate it when you cry...

No one gets an easy pass in life. And it seems it's especially unkind to you, which breaks my heart to see. But I guess we all meet struggles while pursuing our dreams. Sometimes our knees shake when facing giants, and sometimes our feet get knocked out from under us. The moments that define lives aren't always obvious, though. They don't always scream ledge, and nine times out of ten there's no rope to duck under, no line to cross, no blood pact, no official letter on fancy paper. They aren't always protracted, heavy with meaning. Sometimes they are the quiet admission that you've been led down the wrong path. That you were lied to and deceived. Sometimes it's simply the fact that a promise was broken, and you're left in shambles trying to pick up the pieces.

Strange noises in the night...

It's our golden hour...

For the love of my life,

he's got glow on his face,

got glitter for skin,

a glorious look in his eyes,

my radiant beam in the night,

my angel of light.

It makes me feel alone...

It's been so long now, since I held this secret. It burns inside me, and I feel like I am carrying something important, something that makes me who I am and different from everybody else. I take it with me everywhere, and there is never a moment when I'm not aware of it. It's like I'm totally awake and I feel every nerve ending in my body. Sometimes my skin almost hurts from the force of it, that's how strong it was. Like my whole body is buzzing or something. I feel almost, I don't know, noble, like a medieval knight or something, carrying this secret around with me.

He needed challenges in his life, needed to be occupied. Without walls to climb or windmills to attack he was the type of person who became depressed. He knew this. The feeling lived inside him somewhere - probably nestled close to his solar plexus. Yes, it seemed like that was the case. He felt it right in his chest. So, to escape dwelling on his anxieties - which he was prone to do - he lived in a state of perpetual movement. If he slowed down or was obstructed, even for a moment, he would suffer a very unfortunate fate, and then all would be lost.

Wherever it takes me, I'm down for the ride...

I've always liked games. Especially the old school ones. I admired their simplicity. You learn the rules, then you master them. You play them. You play until you lose. There are no complicated button combos or secret cheat codes or hidden trophies to collect. The achievement lies in lasting as long as you can, until you die. Like life, I've come to learn. Last as long as you can. Hold on as long as possible. And there's no shame in losing, because everyone loses. It's just that everyone has a different score. And the scores don't really matter after all. They disappear when you turn the game.