In childhood bridges were subjects of many muses about their middle point which seemed to be difficult to find. When teenagers we perceived bridges as temples of kisses which were to be committed right in the middle of the stone bow.
In any case bridge is an antipolar creature. Either rushing about in doubts or having stood rigid in an agnostic self-persuasion that everything whatsoever is right (or wrong which are the same things when in the middle) and staying calm with the thought.
The bridge I walk everyday leads me from Asia to Europe and back (I tried to find the exact borderline – in vain, all water, water). Its yellow lanterns save. For a city might be beautiful only when it has these yellow things on.
The other day the bridge disappeared. Stepped out into the night in which you could feel only the dense burning air by touch and the sensation of a persecution-by-the-space mania (blame “Song for the unification of Europe” for the latter)
Found the way by intuition into the same 8-minute walk from one part of the world to the other. Found yourself floating over the nothingness, seeing nothing, blinded by the passing cars. The black path above the black water under the black sky. The way to find the middle, the balance. The time to kiss the Universe.

Current music: Zbigniew Preisner - Song for the Unification of Europe