Everything’s a bit blurry lately, mostly in a nice way. Not that life is suddenly more great, i wish, but there’s something about the fading of the days that had passed, the farfetched future, very undefined as well, and theres something about it that brings on a type of calm and i’ve learned to live without the butterflies, without feeling like i’ve experienced something very new each day, without waiting for boys to bring me flowers, poems to hold the most beautiful words, air to always be soft and lightweight, good days to be a given, and be free. And although i wish all those things would still come my way, i’ve learned to feel the temporary and be alright, be the best of it. Ever since a rather honest conversation with someone i barely knew, i decided maybe its time to move on from certain things, think of repairing a family, of living up to the passing of time, of looking with a familiar sight, knowing its right to feel that the wait is worth the while, of having different words to speak and of the changing weather.
You are the smell before rain.
Warsaw’s a bit of a funny city, and i’m it’s child. You get all kind’s of youth, the plain, the mainstream, the black sheep, the dreaming, the ruined, the hungry for life; but everyone seems to aspire. I don’t know if Warsaw’s the place you find your dreams, i’d like to think it’s the place where you decide on what it is you’re looking for, and once you know, you go out into the world to find it. Burned to ashes in the year of 44’, it’s a city that has risen once again. The city that praises it’s past, rebuilds the ruined. A place with fading pastel blocks, broken streetlights, wild outskirts, semi-censured galleries with new age art, and a small center that learns to breathe. A city that feeds on the alternative, rises from the youth; that is, if you know where to look. It’s a place that keeps creating its own inspired version of the universe and hopes to become something big one day. A good place to grow up in.