Writing a blog ... organizing thoughts in words, organizing words in stories, organizing stories in pictures about today, a moment of yesterday. It means creating something so unique. Having, recording and showing feelings, nobody else can have the same way. Yes, they are to common somehow, but there is a red fleck on it, which can be never reproduced ... and there ... that green stripe ... They are very minuscule, but it is Heaven, when one has eyes for them. Like giving a puzzle to the world, with beautifully formed pieces and hiding the relevant parts of it. The grey things, where the real meanings are hidden. It's as a sexy girl in neck breaking high healed shoes with a tormented heart. The reader's luck, when she forgets about the fear and for a second there is a crack in the wall. I love those fractions of time and of the wall, where the secret shivers are. If I am patient enough to wait and watch, I can cull a whole bouquet of them. No one can ever totally undress a soul. Besides it's very rude to do that. But it can be so nice to find myself in the perfume of such a bunch.
And there is an other part of it. Think about the last year this time. It was just like yesterday, time is passing in such a hurry. In the same time watch those things you've written ... it's a lifetime between now and then.
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