summer nights

dancing caricatures on the wall. a cold beer on the terrace. sculptured letters on the floor. the moonlight is like laser in our eyes. summer nights. too hot to cuddle, too hot not to. a small speaker that produces loud sounds. low battery. meeting of the eyes. a light breeze caresses the unruly hair. pricky skin. cold beer is over. fading sounds, as if coming from afar. it’s black or white. maybe red. the light coming from the street lights. dancing caricatures on the wall. they fall. breathless. careless.

night owl

besides he had lost his existence for a tiny wee mini second. maybe for more. he was staring at the far end. an empty look. he was thinking. yeah, he was thinking of something. maybe football. maybe what he had for dinner. or maybe of a girl. why are your eyes so small? i didn’t want to bother you. you seem like you don’t want to talk. ironic, cos i have so many things to tell you. i like to keep my breath and go underwater and open my eyes and i get scared when the rocks are dark. my eyes are sore after a while and i want to get out. i like to swim. it relaxes my body and mind. i could live in water. sometimes i don’t know what i feel. it’s weird cos i pretend i’m honest with myself. i think i can fall in love with my friends. it’s a great feeling when you feel warm and cosy and secure. i kinda felt that way when i met you. i want to take care of you but also be taken care of. i get bored quite easily, i have to admit. when nothing happens in my life i get sad. sometimes i’m scared that i won’t be able to love someone forever and i hate myself for it. forever scares me. i think, i still don’t know how to make my life interesting. i want so many things that i don’t know what things i really want. i know i miss my friends but you can’t base your happiness on other people, cos people come and go, but i don’t want to go. i don’t think i’m ready to go. or if i am, maybe i shouldn’t. i need a break. it’s always better after you take some time off and let your mind rest. think more clearly. the other day i took the bus and got off at a place i’d never visited before. and walked. for an hour or so. i’m sure it will be something i will remember for some time. when i free my mind i always get the most powerful images. and i can breathe every second of it. i can smell and see what i smelled and saw. i’m glad i’m alive. i love animals. i really want to adopt a dog. and go for long walks and look into its wondering eyes. i truly believe animals can feel so much. the same with babies and kids. i want to be a better person. help others. do things for me. i don’t love everyone but i like helping everyone. i actually love very few people. but to those i love i give everything. it’s sunday. tomorrow i’m working, but i don’t really care. i hope i can become a better person. i will. night.

it could be love

purple sky, it’s orangish now oh wait maybe

staring at the top of the

scene we might be holding hands

but it’s pretty over there

bittersweet images breed nostalgia

the voice of a song sung in public

in my head it’s always special

fearless crows ignore the bones

i might love the situation

it’s all in my head


once again

it’s all in my head

stop the game


time to ask yourself some questions

afraid to be judged

mocked or used

it’s all in my head

the sea swims inside you

take advantage of

get out and about feel live

what if i could use myself

manipulate myself

sounds scary

i’m scared

stop the game


Freckles in the sun

Acceptance does not necessarily imply embracement. It simply urges one to acknowledge that a certain situation/fact exists, with all the good and bad side. So for instance when someone asks you to accept capitalism, you don’t need to embrace its ideals, but accept that it exists and try to find a way to fight it. The same with everyday problems. Acceptance is a good thing. Following blindly, whatever it is, is it a situation or a feeling, most certainly isn’t.

It was fine until we reached the deck

‘Reach out for more’ you said and blurred mirrors suffocated us

I’m gonna get my hair cut and styled before the end of the week

Emily said that in China they used to torture prisoners by pouring drops of water on their forehead

The prisoners were thirsty and weary

The past few weeks have been crazy

Living the nomad life yo, bouncing from couch to couch

Doing some travelling as we ought to

We saw glens and lochs and more glens and more lochs

Last Saturday in the club some guy was trying to film our peculiar dance moves

My friends for some reason thought he was trying to take a photo of us and tried to pose

Probably the guy thought we were stupid or something ’cause he carried on filming

We had a good laugh

I don’t want to be the best, the smartest, the prettiest or whatever -est

I want to explore time and space

Life has been a wee bit easier since I learnt to appreciate the little things

Internet but life

a playground of nice feelings

interferes with the dust in our minds

and creates an apocalyptic sense of absorption

a faithless courage and a distinctive heart

overlap and poison our bodies

we write our mantras in permanent ink

searching for hope in our unpredictable future

malicious thoughts of a freedom free of norms and preconditions

merchandised and bottled around our tiny, beautiful dreams

the sea and the sun discuss our lives

and separate our light

to forget our light and life and light and life

a presumptuous lie

Too great to expect

Too tight to set loose

But here we go again

Trickles of uneasy laughs

Glasses of desperation

But it all seemed fine

We said nothing to not say some thing

And it was fine

Teasing friendly strangers

To protect ourselves

Dancing with friendly strangers

To enjoy ourselves

It’s all part of the game

I don’t want to give up

It amusingly frightens me

But it’s part of the game

And I don’t want to give up yet

A moment of harmony

A deep, long breath

Until I spit out uncomfortable emotions

A sabotaged smile

Flowers in my tears

Let’s go back where it all ended


Time to rest

Time to be the best

Time to create

Time to disintegrate

Time to be-have fun

Time to gaze outside the window


No time to discover a seductive beach

In the middle of nowhere

On the verge of a sunset that submerges you into oblivion

Infinite apocalypses                   

No time to test your limits in a colourfully deceptive world

Time to approach myself

Tease me or squeeze me

Have the courage of a swallow that travels across continents

Disapprove of my commonly sophisticated desires

But, you know, I need to keep my spirits up

Things that you don’t want to think about but you do


I wish it were summer every day

To scatter my body on the beach wrapped with sticky sand

And my feet desperately begging for cold, fresh water

I would lend my hair to the breeze and my skin to the sun

It was drizzling that night


I was willing to accept everything

After the flood

Their nights are frivolous

Thick steps behind my back

Footprints everywhere



Becoming better every day

Applying red soap

Triggering unusual circumstances

Washing your cat

Spitting out red wine

Footprints everywhere


It was about four years ago, or maybe five. Genuinely, I can’t remember. The sun was burning every inch of our sweaty bodies and the freezing cold cokes or beers weren’t much of a help. The beach was becoming unfeasible to step on due to the high temperature of the rather golden sand. And we were so not cool. We were about 15-16, you know, everyone thinks of anything else except what is important. But we were lucky enough to have found a place to rest our tents and pretend we were hippies, although we probably looked more like little wolves out of their pack (at least in the eyes of a 20-year-old), because back then we thought we were something more than kings, and less than gods. But I think, no one really paid so much attention to those details, it never actually crossed our minds. We were all so free, free from our parents, free from school, free from life. It was the first time we were allowed to go on holiday on our own. We had been longing for this moment, it was like our mission and each of us had a very distinct, albeit clear idea of what to expect (as every teenager, we had all watched thousands of cheesy movies, which make you believe that perfect holiday means huge sandy beaches, tons of booze and overly fit guys and gals). Booze, yeah, definitely lots of booze and maybe some other stuff too. The guys were dreaming of pretty, tanned girls in bikinis, drinking beer on the beach and running on longboards in the late afternoon hours just before the sun goes down, and us, not sure what we were expecting. I think we were still not as liberated as we thought. We had all heard tales from our older sisters or girlfriends about what happens on the camping site, but we weren’t going to expose this frivolous innocence. It hadn’t been long since Sarah, you know, with Iain.

He was a year older than us, which makes a hell of a difference when you are in your mid-teenage years, and a bit weird, or maybe he was just completely different from us. We never had a clue about where he was, he wouldn’t show up to our ‘meetings’ or pick up his phone; and this happened quite a lot. He was never really her boyfriend, if you were to ask me. Actually, he was never really our friend, he was just ‘around’. Sometimes he would bring ‘weed for ma peeps’ and it goes without saying that all the guys admired him, he had this something, a true leader, yeah, he did have this unique charm, I must say. Tequila sunrise, bloodshot eyes and then everyone knew what would follow. He would get into every sort of fight, just because, well, it’s never just because, there is always a reason behind every action, but we hardly knew who he was, let alone the fact that he wouldn’t say anything in regard to his life. ‘Leave me alone’, and we usually did, but this time it wasn’t like every other night, it was one of those nights that no one expects them to turn out like that, simply because this can’t happen to us, but it did. In the midst of warm beer and dancing smoke he sort of cracked up. Suddenly, his voice became acute and his pupils widened more than normal. We were looking at each other to see what was going on, we all had the same lost, questioning, empty look. He was staring at some skinny, blonde guy at the end of the room. Everyone immediately shifted their attention towards that side of the room. On the spur of a moment, Iain dropped his drink on the floor, which broke into many tiny pieces and splashed everyone around. He walked towards the guy.

–        You!  He said in his quivering, yet robust voice.

The skinny guy didn’t react. He just stared at him, as we all did, after all.

–        What do you think you’re doing, huh?  He said, and spat on the brownish carpet.

Once more, the other guy remained calm and silent. A second later Iain raised his fist with an abrupt movement of his slim arm and guided it towards his right cheekbone. Blood started dripping slowly all off his cheek and coloured the brownish carpet. It was probably what we had just seen or the sticky floors that impeded us from moving. Thick and fierce silence. Our innocent and joyful bodies, as if something had dragged them violently through a path of thorny roses, shivered bluntly. I could feel an unfamiliar numbness around me. We didn’t recognise ourselves for a moment there. It wasn’t so much what had happened or Iain or the guy, but we somehow all sensed what was to follow.

He turned his back relentlessly, pushed everyone who was on his way, including Sarah, and left through the back door. No one saw him, no one knew where he went. Neither the next day, nor the day after. Our holiday had turned into something… or nothing. Few chats here and there were interrupting the unbearable aura that was surrounding us. Many things were being said as to what had happened. Some said he went off with an astonishingly pretty gal and they both disappeared to live every teenager’s dream. Others said that while being out of his mind, he run, he run so fast that he didn’t see a car that was coming from the opposite direction, which had, beyond any doubt, exceeded the speed rate and bfkgkm… Nothing of what was being said could be less or more certain than anything else. We later found out that the skinny guy was sleeping with one of Iain’s ex’s, and she, although he would never admit it, was more important to him than what he claimed. Anyway, this doesn’t make any difference, and we were still there, this time counting the days to go back and Iain and the skinny guy and the bloody carpet. What a lad.