the sky was painted bronze, brass and so unlike anything ..... Those mornings
ash and American coffee in which I immersed myself in the dam and I became a follower. True to the menthol and the daily newspaper, the sites forced internet chats and always .. those mornings became routine, habit, anxiety off a spit, with hints of incipient verbiage hyperactivity and sleeplessness. It's so easy to stick to certain things when there is an excessive need to forget, to heal, to let things flow, time ....
I became a slave to the books and photography, radio, letters that can make you bleed to be so certain of which can give you a break when he was dying, the ones that touch your soul and raise you , take you, lead you to hidden places as breaking all barriers, all the paradigms of the world.
Life became a little slower, the clock stopped importing and music for weeks they fed me a bite no one, I lost count of the hours in which I promised not think you do not miss you and remember every inch of my life, in every corner of my worn universe. There was a great calm in my world of trivial distractions and occasionally a rush of laughter visiting my den, my stash of reality that was not ready to face and chose to cover with brown curtains and a good argument.
teased me so much, so many situations and consequences of my actions, I made fun of myself and a strange mixture of tears, laughter robbed me of consistency, this was perhaps the only way I could wash me bitterness that I accumulated in the belly and began to travel around the body ... I made fun of life, those fairy tales and happy endings that I had invented you, I felt so stupid, so naive.
Until one day, one of those mornings of ash and American coffee came a tiny difference, a small light that began to flit through my head and realized that something had changed, it was time to switch off, closing doors my past and start this new journey that fills me with colors every day.
Bronze painted the sky this morning, is not all black and white .. I look so different from anything ..... Bronze
you.
ash and American coffee in which I immersed myself in the dam and I became a follower. True to the menthol and the daily newspaper, the sites forced internet chats and always .. those mornings became routine, habit, anxiety off a spit, with hints of incipient verbiage hyperactivity and sleeplessness. It's so easy to stick to certain things when there is an excessive need to forget, to heal, to let things flow, time ....
I became a slave to the books and photography, radio, letters that can make you bleed to be so certain of which can give you a break when he was dying, the ones that touch your soul and raise you , take you, lead you to hidden places as breaking all barriers, all the paradigms of the world.
Life became a little slower, the clock stopped importing and music for weeks they fed me a bite no one, I lost count of the hours in which I promised not think you do not miss you and remember every inch of my life, in every corner of my worn universe. There was a great calm in my world of trivial distractions and occasionally a rush of laughter visiting my den, my stash of reality that was not ready to face and chose to cover with brown curtains and a good argument.
teased me so much, so many situations and consequences of my actions, I made fun of myself and a strange mixture of tears, laughter robbed me of consistency, this was perhaps the only way I could wash me bitterness that I accumulated in the belly and began to travel around the body ... I made fun of life, those fairy tales and happy endings that I had invented you, I felt so stupid, so naive. Until one day, one of those mornings of ash and American coffee came a tiny difference, a small light that began to flit through my head and realized that something had changed, it was time to switch off, closing doors my past and start this new journey that fills me with colors every day.
Bronze painted the sky this morning, is not all black and white .. I look so different from anything ..... Bronze
you.
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