I love poetry. Sometimes the words themselves form lines when I'm riding a bike on empty roads or sitting by the window with a cup of tea. I love art - old churches, modern galleries, the smell of paint and paper that rustles under my fingers.

Motorcycles. The roar of the engine, the cold wind in your face, the feeling as if the earth was disappearing from under your wheels. When I'm driving, poetry and paintings fade into the background. All that remains is speed, road and freedom.

I don't like boredom. I hate it when days are similar to each other, like gray houses in a row. I don't like crowds. The noise of people who hear nothing but themselves. I feel like a stranger in the city.