Sometimes you live in a fairy tale. A fairy with a golden comb defines its plot. You are not looking for reality. In her forest you are looking to get lost.
A root buried deep in the Earth. A country degenerates into the ignorance of its inhabitants. An enemy on its walls. Revelation call. Confrontation of truth. History weighs on generations.
Sometimes you can make fun of time. Hide. The movement of others makes you move in the peloton. You pay attention to every little detail around you. You make mosaics with the images. You dream with your eyes open. You can. You feel like you live.
Σκέψεις. Δημιουργούν παρέλαση λέξεων. Ζευγαρώνουν εικόνα αυτές.
Επετειακή επανάληψη. Χαρίζει κάθε εβδομάδα. Κίνητρο που δεν ξεθωριάζει.