It is July. A long, long time ago it was July again and I remember a certain painting which marked the end of an incredible story and became the reason for the beginning of another amazing story.
I miss those days but I guess everyone comes to this point in their life when amazing stories just don’t happen anymore.
It is probably a part of getting older. Life becomes common and regular. Simple and clear. Celebrations don’t excite you, problems don’t anger you… It doesn’t sound like a bad thing.
But it is.