A toast

To the first picnic of this year, happening soon!

Losing the track of time

My head is loose from clock's pointers, i see everybody running but can not feel the rush.
Dawn, day, sunset, night they all dance together in my mind but i don't care.
Maybe this is what some people call being crazy, maybe it is just being here.
Now.

I'm all about smoothness

...but my love for this spiky plants is endless.

Simão

Waking up

Mora

April blues