Walking through the streets of Palma -Mallorca-, I saw a lot of streetperformers, waiting for generous people that could spare some money. One of the performers I won't forget was this man. He was just sitting there, in his suitcase, not moving at all. Most people just passed him ( [link] ).

I didn't have any money on me at that moment, so I asked one of the friends of my brother if they had some. I gave it to the man, and asked if I could take a picture of him. He didn't move, just blinked his eyes twice. I will never forget the look in his eyes. So much grief, in just two eyes. Everybody has a story, and that day I wondered what his story was. Too bad my Spanish dictionary exists out of three words.


The picture reminds me of something I once wrote (Journal Entry: Sun Jun 24, 2007, 8:29 PM).


<sub>[Weird Dreams, Vague memories]


As I sit here waiting
my eyes shed tears
weird dreams and vague memories
filling the room with fear
It's not me, just my body
reacting on emotions
I need a well to be strong
cutting through the system of pain
I am me but not so very much.
Even though I gain a bit the lost is many
connected with a spirit
I'm not touchable
Though you can reach me very well
These paper cuts will leave no mark on my soul
Only scars I gained from experience will be remembered
This is where I keep you
This is where I hide myself
I cannot fly with broken wings
I can only die with the thought I once did
Leave me between dusk and dawn
I shall find my way through
eventually





Thank you for taking time .</sub>