Every means of communication what is call languages are mysteries
I am a foreigner in an insulated capsule
I taste. I explore. I take samples to try and break loneliness
I'm learning. Maybe, one day, I will be truely able to write and talk.

jeudi 8 octobre 2009


So, on the ocean of life, we pass and speak one another
Only a look and a voice, then darkness again and a silence.


Tales of a Wayside Inn