sky people

sky people, a photo by siebo on Flickr.

What's water's color? Blue. What's the universe's color? Beige. What's my color? Changing fades.

Hyuga

"Money is the most important, we'll do any job for it.  For now. We won't sell our soul."

Flying Soul

Today shall be the start of a story. A story about some lost flying soul trying to find its box. Its right human box. Its answer to the essential and eternal question. The soul should travel from border to border, in any language, in any culture. It shares the same connection, the one energy that fuels us all. It has even a name, it has even a language. It has his own story throughout all those human curtains.

Tune to rainbow

Hello, it's me again. Authenticity, play the word. Today, I find my inspiration in what it's called Random Hacks of Kindness, Hacking for Humanity, they say. Innovation to make the world a better place. Found an anthem and built a poem upon. Wishing upon a star I make changes that might be visible around me.

Ugly duckling turns into White swan

Big Heart of Art - 1000 Visual Mashups (Photo credit: qthomasbower)And there is a twist always in the ugly duckling/white swan story. When I can't tell you, I can write, when I can't write you, I can draw or I can sing, when I can't sing, will you find my voice, will you look at me the way I am?

I think I am surrounded by people who still have a dream for which they didn't go one step further, a dream they promised each other they will look and cherish on this road or another. People who seem to lower the shoulders and fall the inner smile they have for that dream, too soon. They let it go way too soon. There's only one piece of us, there's only one road we know, for the moment being. The age and the life are too contradictory with our inner soul, I know. But the dreams by our side, they capture our heart, they will always hold a part of ourselves, never really letting go, always a step behind, a corner of our lip from smile to one tear. For all those dreams trapped between the walls, I wish I could lend my voice. And if I lose my voice, be sure to find it again for me. And look at me like I am.

Almost to the point

Image via WikipediaThere you go. When you see the dots but can't see the line that connects them. When with every breath you think have reached the line but not yet. Like a Totoro up in the tree, you watch the world from above, are you part of it, are you just a character in the wind or a spectator in the back seat? When you would want to have a speech, but you hold to the essence and can't find the words, can't design the shape. Then you meet a warm smile in its definition of long haired frame and shiny sword eyes.