Woe to him who enters my private. And woe to me if I offer a door to look weak. A sip when you thought, almost cautious in any move. But I note also a small parenthesis. A little while ago I smoked a cigarette on the balcony - which I do not believe at least two years - and instantly, looking at the buildings around, I remembered what I went through my head then, when that whole balcony had more flavor . Comparing that with what you feel that is the case now in my life, now that I am constantly in oxygen debt to the spirit, I realized what it actually is infinitely more aromatic. Taste of mature, serious, meaningful, pasty, amarotico, mossy, dark green and cyan. With the hint of a latent sweetness, which at irregular intervals explodes into violent cascades of yellow and magenta.
This also reflected unconsciously in my photos. The colors tell which side slope in recent days. Simply, there's enough.
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