the most perfect blue pen will be never red enough to correct a school test. anyway there is no perfect pen (blue or not) and rather: is it really so important to correct tests or could we drawing flowers instead?

- flowers to pick up and throw away... why, why to pick up them??? -

symptoms, symptoms, symptoms, everything was only symptom. symptoms 'cause Sundays of joy were always about pain, and disappointment, fighting for dreams, and fighting against them.

...asking for what you were waiting for being asked, staying one more night, one week, one month, one year, one life.

Sundays of joy... that Sunday of joy. That really insignificant one.  Or maybe an other negligible day. Doing something in yellow toilets. Losing something important, maybe notebooks. Who knows now? Who can remember? Doing something really negligible, rather... just some insignificant words, some talk about weddings after not being able to say anything kind, after getting kind word, not accepted, but kind ones...

...and standing in other toilets with other ones. laughing. laughing. or not... many times... laughing from heart or laughing troubledly, many times...

...and no other toilets, csak sátrak, sörszagú, könnyelmű bánat, betegesen naiv álmok, bizalmatlanság, betrayal... :( 

Life. And something to take too serious. A game we couldn't play. Something important we shouldn't have played with.

...and dirthy streets, stranger's floor, to give something, to loose something, to confuse or just live through something maybe-important...

[és esetlen, fél-hazug talánok, keresni mindig a most - ot, s ezernyi mégis oly kevés másszor rezegve nézni, utazni biciklivázon, apró csodákra lelni emberszívekben...]

loosing something you have never possessed. loosing before possessing it.

no, you don't need, you don't need... me