i've loved, i've laughed and cried.
i've had my fill, my share of losing.
and now, as tears subside,
i find it all so amusing.
to think i did all that;
and may i say - not in a shy way,
no, oh no not me,
i did it my way.

...although some find this way elusive, and others won't join it in 2008:
- i'm still willed to share the road and discuss my topographic map publicly.

...but definitely the coordinates will change:
as i've been told that my english is a) capricious and b) tough, plus i'm sort of running out of words as i haven't been taught any new ones in quite a while - i will have to reduce my excitable speech, minimize driving the metaphoric loops and the serpentines of associative writing.

....whereas others try to form a new, quite simplified religion for a contemporary feeling/form of expression/culture which i might share: i don't intend to continue writing the verses of my individual bible. although some believers are obviously touching faith in the church of miriam, i ain't no personal goddess after all, not even of writing....

therefore: why don't i follow beloved m. july's directives? of course i should only learn to love myself more than others, but preparing some instructions of how to give significance to the arbitrary could be a new form of communication. no confessions anymore, but advices from a dangerous mind...

...although i don't have any red doors, i will now close mine for a bit of black painting.
- i shall reopen with a new concept, a brighter mood, but the same jagger-esque bigmouth...