Sve reči koje sam napisala ne mogu dovoljno da kažu. Svaka misao, pogled i treptaj deo su sna koji je vredan pomena. Neko vreme je prošlo, neko traje, neko tek dolazi. Ja sam tu dovoljno dugo da o tome svedočim.
Nikada nisam bila ovoliko sigurna u stvari oko sebe i njihov značaj. Pored svakidašnjih nemira nikada nisam zaboravila na neobjašnjivo. Galerija mojih likova puna je čula, u nekim temama me nema, iz nekih izvirem. Negde sam blizu, a negde daleko. Sa slikama koje predstavljaju prošlost i mislima koje se gube u dalekoj budućnosti. Sve je lavina nekih drugih okolnosti, temperamenta, značaja i zrelosti.
Svaki kraj je novi početak…
Your reflection in the window spills, The crowd of women you see that boldly stood, I turn to and get it to cherish the illusion, I still believe in you, no matter who i fool …
Feathers to resound i gutters, Pigeon wings swing slowly His wing is the angle of your eye, Helen, with no character, in my soul lust and hell …
The pores feel your body perfume, Days of your indelible mark on my face, Hlena, a woman who has nowhere, The coat, in the case, on the trip, seeking your little thing …
I love you without reflection in the mirror, Between the dream, half reality, and imaginary views I feel that you are there, and spoils the picture, Helen … dont stop, go to my side …
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