Prison

I do have nothing to say, all the words are in the air. They are flying and changing. Whether to try to catch them and force them on this black and white prison or to leave them just alone? I feel at the moment like making the feelings the experience into a formed shape, is wrong. They can be in change. Making any statements is too early. And then? I will finish up by being the woman who writes 1000 pages in the end of the life, while only the in the last years the life would be perhaps in distinctive shapes? But the feeling of this moment is still important and you have just ready that. The matter of changing is sometimes so irritating:
Cuba travel- not Cuba travel
Studying sth?- not studying
Amsterdam?- not Amsterdam
Out?- In!