Today, I feel as if I could rise above everything and everyone and looking into the depths of the monopolizing abyss that surrounds me, I could scream that I am no longer afraid.
And I know that I won't be able to fly for long. I know that my wings are as fragile as dreams that come to an end at dawn, gliding smoothly through the clouds. But even if the time when I cannot fly anymore comes, I would like to remain among the clouds, embraced by its damp, cold veils. I would love to hide myself among the branches of water structures, sheltered under barriers of light that, when burning, will break into a thousand pieces. I would love to spend so much time that I am already a part of this watery landscape, that it would rain drops of me, everywhere. And as water, becoming a wave that will silently expire at the beginning of a beach, being carried away by the wind that with its whisper accompanies me or becoming a tear that silently speaks and tells me the secrets of a tormented soul.