Suddenly all seems that has never existed. The faces on the photographs, even though our own ones, reflect the light in the directions where we can not follow. We can not grasp those moments, they look so unfamiliar even though our faces as the spells once uttered are figuring out from the frames of mind. It is so violent memory that somehow we prefer to erase and postpone the feeling like the lines that superimposed are leading to misinterpret the base from where all has expanded.

Violence of various fragrances are being cooled down by the repetitive chance of cleared mind.


And suddenly the whiteness sounds with the thousand unshakable memories.

TO live the presence, while past becoming the moment and future merge with both of them - gaining eternity, but only in the streams of thoughts, interpreting and understanding all, on the paper, from the prof. But where has disappeared a naive soul that used to not to ask but only tune itself to wind and sun, the blows and flows, without a single read book, she already knew while sitting on the stone by the fjord, that all is one and all is love.