The Living is an art by itself.
I can only wish that The Life comes to me in a form of a real Living one day, concealed and unexpected,
Because, by know, all I have is just a survival, the constancy, day by day.
I’m breathing, therefore I am alive. But I cannot interpret it as The Living.
Living is an Art,
Full of adventures,
And above all,Conscience.
I had all of that in my Life,
But it was so surreal,
Like an old movie in black and white, without color,
With no sound attached.
Waking up every day,
Just to breathe, walk, talk and smile into the emptiness,
Makes my Life just an everyday continuity without the glare,
Without an echo.
Living is an art by itself.
So, are you Alive Or Just Breathing?!
Count me in as a Breathing and Non-existent, Awaiting for a Life to become an Art Of Living.