A man. A small star in the sky, a tiny drop in the sea. He offers, creates and gives the impossible. He proves to be undefeatable, undestructive, powerful and yet just a human being.

I close my eyes and I think about a mystery. It's inexplicable but still so ordinary. A human being the being with ideas, desires and thoughts. The one that loves, hates, gives and takes.

Love lives in every one of us. It's a part of us, our lives, our own work. It represents the top of the human creativity. Lost or found it's the main deed, of a human being. It expresses human emotions, thoughts, the human in human. Everything we create with or without love is us. The source of our lives are our deeds, good or bad. They describe a human. Just a small being in a huge space. Human, built out of his deeds. The one think about the one that astonishes me.

Do I understand the source of life? Do I know that life is a book of the truth? The work of a human being. The one that is a collection of deeds?

So "man don't go too small under the stars!"

 ADLA VELAGIĆ  27/01/2000