The Road To Yourself



Not mine photo. Too bad, because it is perfect.
It represents everything in my mind, colourless, empty, leading…somewhere.

I dream of driving full speed on a road like that, feeling free of everything that surrounds me at this very moment.
I don’t need companion, never had or needed one in fact.
I used to be alone, learned to speak with myself and make my own decisions.
Only thing that’s missing is a someone with who I can share a beautiful, hot mug of freshly made coffee in the moment of a sunrise in the end of the road
In silence.
No words needed.
Free open space. coffee taste, sun on the horizon appearing in a slight, yet visible form, touching my face.
Reminding me that, I am, in fact still alive.
Because, when travelling the black road, alone, you lose a sense of yourself.
As if nothing exists but blackness and speed.

Find yourself. Travel the black road. Bring a companion if you wish. Or lose yourself in the perfection of the moment.

Wherever you are going, you’re always find your way back home.

And to yourself.


You’re My Most Treasured Mistake





As I stood there , looking at you leave into the grey and the forgotten world,

The tears weren’t falling.


I was numb

One big emptiness.


My knees were weak,

The Universe stopped , as I stopped breathing.


You choose, and I choose the same.

To tear us apart.


It was written that we must meet.

It was a mistake for us to meet.

The One above, the Universe, made all possible to bring us together.


To create a unique piece of art,

So soft, gentle, universal love.

And such a fabulous mistake.


I dream of you often and I know you dream about me too.

At least, we meet there, the kissing ghosts

In the non-existing world of lost souls.


Of all that I have done terribly wrong in my life,

You are and you will be always be,

My most treasured mistake.


Introverted Society


Ok, this is actually not my car sticker, but I would be so proud if I had one like this.

As making a life more and more into car dwelling in the middle of the road jams, it would be so amazing looking at the other cars stickers, and instead of getting pissed off, you could actually have fun.

Or, eventually adding your FB profile sticker to it, to make more friends while waiting in the traffic somnolence.

Am I too crazy with this idea? Am I going too far?

Are the people ready to share some joy and maybe add a new friend out of nowhere?

I think the society closes itself more and more each day. No interactions in real life, or little interactions in real life.

One day we will be just sitting behind our screens, doing our jobs without the need to leave the house.

And the friends will be holographic presentations in the middle of your room, if you want to talk to someone.

A phone call will be an FB, Skype, or whatever other program available for social interaction, with holograms interacting with you.

I have no intention to live in a world like that.

I should probably start an initiative called : “Interact with me, but face to face, while enjoying your favourite drink!”

So, I’ll make a car sticker with twenty cats, and a sentence below:

“Real life means more than just staring into my car window. Let’s get some coffee later. Psychos are excluded. ”

What do you think? Am I bat shit crazy, or the society needs to pull out of the traffic jam?

The Traffic Lights Of My Life


Abstract Street

Why are the traffic lights of my life always red?

Even when I want to go, yellow stops me, in the moment, and doesn’t let me move an inch.

I stand, I expect, hope exists, but is getting smaller.

I’m not going back where I’ve been back, I want to go, go, forward

But the green light does not come on.

Is it a sign?

Do I have to stay where I am and face all memories from the past before I move on?

Again, go through all the mistakes and harsh words, wrong acts, reckless thoughts.


Who decides where I’m going?

Am I not the one who has the right to get up and go?

Why anyone thinks he is entitled to ignore my traffic lights??

I am completely faced with the consequences of what I have done.

How long will this purgatory last?

In eternity?

Too long.

Please, whoever looks at it all and knows all, the one who gives himself the right to decide instead of me, please, ask him in my name to let me go.

I have suffered enough, and red is not my color anymore.

The Living Art Or The Art Of Living


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.