The Shape of Music. Macedonia.

It rains. It makes situation complicated by itself. The feeling of hidding from something. Something undefined. Willing to wear gloves and hide the eyes under sunglasses, which accidentally I never had. Today it's raining.

I throw my imaginary paper planes into the storm. And look how they dance in the wind. So unbearable and tender paperwork. So desperately trying not to touch the ground.

I continue to read inspiring stories of my mates, who went to the world to find their Freedom [eventually and for eternity] like me. [Hot spots from Denmark] The cheerful plays with coffee-grounds in Turkish way, trying to imagine that the coffee [or what is left in a cup after one round of frivolous conversations at the round shape table] will whisper the secrets of inscrutable future paths. Hopefully it will. Just for fun. If the suitcase full of formulas of hereditary customs gained through the centuries were working few centuries ago, why should we doubt their power now?

But it's raining today. And there's time to think for a while. About the things that surprise and the things that scare. Seems weird, I'm already 2 weeks in the completely new environment, and I can't start write about the new cultural and social heritage, which meets me everyday as about something really WOOOW. I can't make lifestory about African refugees trying desperately to be the part of this European world [as I don't have Black guys around. And actually Spain is in another direction ;)] Culture shock don't live here. It went different direction. The only pleasant shock of my everyday view are mountains! Mountains... somewhere there, sleeping silently, watching everything from apart and remaining green. I wonder if they become yellow in the Fall season? [As they are mostly covered with trees.] Yeah, stupid question from the human being, who spent the most of his lifetime on flat land.

The touch of crying rose. And coffee in the cup shaped like music. Can You imagine the shape of music? [Like naked lady making slow moves, singing in the rain and going on barefoot. More to feel. The shape of music.] That's just a game of words. But the cup looked as a clef if you look from above. ;)

I had a chance during these 2 weeks of living [not existing] experience once more the Summer. And I was in love [since I came here]. How else You can explain the messing up with everything and that smile which never goes down? And the feeling of being inspiringly busy, creating loads of ideas, which have the real outcome [not just the list put in dark corner awaiting for better times.]

Darling, FUCK ME TWICE - I'm HOME! :)