Art is long and time is fleeting and our hearts though stout and brave, Still, like muffled drums, are beating, Funeral marches to the grave..
"The flowers of evil"-C.Baudelaire
20.1.09
Eεεεεεεεεεε.......
γιατί αρρώστησα και είμαι μες στον πυρετό (και τη γκρίνια...)!
