Novi_sad

I don’t know what is yellow.

White the noise, never brown, never pink, never black.

Sometimes I am afraid, still — steal.

Υοu are walking over the terraces by stepping on the chinmeys and you are throwing chrysanthemus in the fireplace of every exploded house. After that, you comb your hair to make your hands slim, to show to the sattelites your narrow beauty and gently repeat it onto the absolutely right place.

The aesthetics of silence are omnipotent. This is why the eye perceives when it is in constant motion.

Sound is movement, it is time.

Sometimes you lay in your bed and you are typing the manifestos of escapism. But, you are always there. You miss nothing and that means you touch death or you are simply a horse.

My eyes are the logarithm of abyss.

After all the fundamental question is:

’Blind or deaf’ ?

Being real and volcanic is socially forbidden.

Kissing the waterfalls and/or the sun is a temporary forgiveness.

Upside down ALL — with the soundtrack of a Bulgarian funeral choir, the transversal structures of tectonic confessions and the ultimancy of pyramids.

Your hijacked eyes perceive the nature as a miracle when for me, it is the explanation for everything.

We are all expecting some lenient volcano to obliterate the economic retaliation, don’t we?

Decisive delusion is a crucial phase of existence that establishes if one’s ready for adulthood or will forever need to be reassured by moms, dads, teachers, gurus or divinities until the transformation into a total no-hoper is completed.
How can I decentralize the erebus? Maybe diving into the stars?

Upside down ALL — yes!

Electronic the magmatism, indigenous the love, inviolable our vulnerability, absolute the nihilism and grey the katharsis.

Any kind of technological supremacy should be explicitly sanctioned and criminilized from those terrific evergreens.

Proud the evergreens, all year long!

I really don’t know what is yellow.