I am shortening my conversations more and more often.
I am less and less interested in who, when and why said words that they will regret, but it will be too late.
I am silent for longer and longer, in front of the foaming words of a friend who later becomes a stranger to me.
It's one thing to hear the truth, it's another to wonder how I earned that tone.


I sift through what hurts me,
learnt of what is caused to me to teach me.
I understand the difference between loving and 'I'm fine with you.'
I step forward faster and faster, not caring about the eyes I once trusted.
Increasingly, I am not answering phone calls.
Because those who seek me today,
they allowed themselves to be gone for me when I was once looking for them.


The more I enter the summer of my years, the more I am convinced that from now on, my friends will decrease at the expense of all those who managed to fit into my world for a while, and then I chose to miss them for a long time.
Because man does not change, but reveals himself.


In front of those who don't believe that you care about them,
Where there is you for someone, and they find you...
With a word. Call. Mail. Flower.
With a card from which only one painted smile shines.
I say goodbye to the rest.
Slowly and slowly.
Almost imperceptibly.