When I was a child, I didn’t know how the headache was. (But I knew how hard the heartache was.) When I was a child, I didn’t know the word “pity”. (But I knew the notion of it.) When I was a child, I didn’t know how long the night was. (B…

Take photos of flowers. It’s not always beautiful, but take. Can’t stop. They have a power. Power to catch one’s eye, or one’s consciousness. Nice word. Obsession. And it hurts a bit, and reminds me of something.

While I was not here, I was writing in another place. I’m still writing there, but it’s becoming a bit hard to keep the balance (mentally). Some of readers here disappeared, especially my “real” (or “ri-a-ru” or “off-line”) friends. aaah, …