The art within


The art within

The art within. It comes from sounds, from glimpse in the corner of the eye, from light changes. From silent shadows on the wall, from moments of passion and hate. Speechless tears in desert of souls. Without reaching for the sun it’s impossible to fly. Life is a time for seeking excuses not to fly, time to watch TV, to eat. No more excuses. No more destiny. Blast the sky. Scream out the fucking pain and live. Like the river on the fall. Like the deer against the bullet. Live the time and know the pain. And know the love, close your eyes and fly, and cry. I believe in the state of flight. Open your eyes and see the clouds. Below. No signs any more. I don’t want to believe. I want to feel. I want to live.