I just can't do otherwise

Ποιο είναι το σημείο που ενώνει τον έρωτα και την "τέχνη", ή ό,τι άλλο κάποιος αγαπά πολύ; Οτι απλά δεν μπορείς να κάνεις αλλιώς-- και σε αυτές τις περιπτώσεις, που ουσιαστικά δεν υπάρχουν επιλογές γιατί η επιλογή είναι μία, δεν υπάρχουν ήττες ούτε νίκες..υπάρχει μονάχα πορεία, είναι γραμμένο στο DNA σου, μέχρι τη μέρα που θα μπορείς να κάνεις αλλιώς (αν ποτέ έρθει αυτή).

(μικρή απάντηση στο post του φίλου otibaleionous

και η Tinkerbell κλείσιμο του ματιού σε όσους πιστεύουν ακόμα πως μπορούν να πετάξουν--

ζωή είναι επτά να πέφτεις και να σηκώνεσαι οχτώ;)

just a perfect day..

Afoot and light-hearted, I take to the open road
Healthy, free, the world before me.
the long brown path before me, leading wherever I choose.
Henceforth, I ask not good-fortune- I myself am good fortune;
Henceforth, I whimper no more, postpone no more, need nothing,
Strong and content, I travel the open road

The earth-that is sufficient
I do not want the constellations any nearer;
I know they are very well where they are;
I know they suffice for those who belong to them.
(Still here I carry my old delicious burdens;
I carry them, men and women- I carry them wherever I go;
I swear it is impossible for me to get rid of them;
I am filled with them and I will fill them in return.)

Now I see the secret of the making of the best persons
It is to grow in the open air, and to eat and sleep with the earth.

Now I re-examine philosophies and religions
They may prove well in the lecture rooms, yet not prove at all under the spacious clouds,
and along the landscape and flowing currents.

W.Whitman’s song of the open road
for the simple happy thought
and the lightness
and the ending that marked a new beginning.
for a moment in London
when people kept staring at me
and I kept staring and smiling at them
and they didn’t know why
but I did- and it was enough…

encounters of the last night

...a colourful dinosaur jumped on her lap
turned and looked at her
as if he was expecting something..
she stroke him like she used to stroke her cat

now this is her cat
looking at her with her usual frown on her face
but she is not white anymore
but ginger and she is sitting on the table
and waiting for her to wake up
and it will be summer again

(Summer by Miro,

and notes from the diary of a hyper 'bat-nerd')