Damn! I adore the way he rides his bicycle.

I adore watching him on his black, old bicycle, going round and round,each morning in the big square of the port, when the sun is rising. I adore the way he faces the world on his bike. It seems he draws world maps for his trips on the cold strange ground. Each morning he goes round and round. He always smiles and his eyes are glowing like tiny star flashes. Each morning i seet on the dock, watching him going round and round. Each morning, I feel the world will be exploded if i try to stop his rounds. Each morning, life seems meaningful. Each morning, my heart is beating fast, my lips remain silent, and my mind goes round and round, like him on his black old bicycle.

Each morning, of my whole life, i wake up with the same dream. Each morning, I wake up and my mind goes round and round.