Change

A lot has changed since you are gone...

I still go places and I still shoot a lot but you are not in those frames anymore. "Nomadic Dreams" is a sacred folder now with the memories of all the tours that we did together and all the journeys since your departure are in "wanderlust". And it is not about naming the folders alone - in going places, there are no dreams anymore but only a lust for wandering, a quest to escape.

I still have those tea and F.R.I.E.N.D.S. sessions but there is one cup less now. I still cook sometimes and sometimes I eat outside but it is never as fulfilling as skipping a meal with you.

I still write poems for you but none looks up and smiles. I still read those pages of my slam-diary and those poems too, which you wrote for me. Words are all the same but as dead as 'us'.

I know there is no sense in writing all this now. Nothing can bring you back and nothing can make for whatever has happened. But yesterday, someone asked about you and I couldn't resist myself from falling all over again. Remember how you always said that I am a pessimist and I always emphasized that I am an optimist. It's my destiny to hope...