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The dream, the white mots, carry on their fragile wings
A long time ago, I dreamt that I was standing in a cloud made of hundreds of white moths. It seemed they were desperately trying to reach the moon, yet they been misguided by the city lights. I could hear the thousands of small bell ringing, and they washed down the sound of little wings…
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To outrun infinity
There is nothing more beautiful in life than to feel the infinity of the moment in time. You just there. Nowhere else. Just now and here. And everything else melts away into the abyss. We are constantly in motion – that sometimes we outrun the infinity; we do not enable ourselves to wallow in it,…
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