Spirituality.

In my new room, a rectangular fairly spaced room with a wooden roof on top of my head and a bedlight on my side I lie, in a new trial of describing those beloved moments of spirituality in which I, with all naïveness of the romantic person I am, feel like having enough serenity and confidence to rule this world. I feel like the center of my universe is at my bed, that the universe is one, and one with all inside it. I feel like a man looking out of the window at a serene, calm and beautiful landscape of green mountains and a lake which reflects what he feels inside. He can also see all the other spiritual moments of love, happiness, sadness and longing which were provoked by a certain event, a prayer, reflection on life, a piece of music, reading a novel and imagining the landscape which the novelist sees infront of him while writing, being in the disarming presence of a beloved person or longing for him scattered before his eyes like tree leaves on a windy September morning. In these moments, I feel like I can sacrifice my very life for the beauty of this brief interlude.