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sometimes the moon in my skin. Woman looking southeast


the moon in my soul.

So, like any worse of a pisco .

So, it started to shine in a pisco .

maravillozo is to make sense of things, yet alone understand it and still can not share at all, when a flower grows in the imagination, awaken your dreams and desire to do everything light up every second day. It is a safety in the chest in the center, something much stronger than any certainty (or validity) of reason.

And he missed this feeling.

Last night the power went off while doing math exercises, so I went for a sail, but I did not exercising, but instead went to the room, and look around the golden color of the candle was so charming. I put on my pajamas, and I was a living statue of pure gold. And that feeling was enough, just that, to remember what captivating detail, this spontaneous, natural, those who ofcourse, do not wait. All happiness is unexpected, as it speaks my good André Comte-Spomville.

And if I recall further, that said "hope is the last thing to lose," for sure!

The ultimate hope is lost, even if the latter, as is lost.

then life teaches you to distinguish hopes dreams.

never, never have to miss the intereza to learn. The only thing that will make us valuable at the time, the last time before you'll feel. You'll know you got it and so you know you helped them understand.

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The second second.

Because the poet does not know its make, it just makes for inspiration, as Aristotle said .

They can teach us not to write poetry. Just endless springs from his fingers, his eyes engrossed in shooting details. I remember one time sublime inspiration, unconscious associations of color words and feelings all in one sentence. There was a time in my life in my writing even exceeded my actual experience. Every time I read them I am amazed because they have something to teach, something that previously could not read.

But now ...

Somehow philosophy was or was, for me. Or me for it?

perfect shoe for some reason. But ...

Perhaps it was so loud that my sense of frustration invisible bloke is . Even evades those things. I like them, read them, move me, I love them equally. Just ... nothing comes from me.

I see friends so excited to know things, to ration things, to argue properly to demonstrate that they are right, and that to me and not my attention. I like looking at them, understand them, associate maybe ... but if I have to argue something, defending something, it's hard as ever.

's funny.

I'm something of melancholy.

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mesientoatrasadaymeentristecenopoderviviresasexperiencias.

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age I can not help from heaven.

never nothing belongs to us.

be something more precious than lost?

That feeling that suddenly walk walk and walk

and feel as time goes by your body, your eyes and your hands

And your mind, static.

because there is only room for feelings.

when the body is

is the time of the move

no reason has to do here

only my senses.

vibration resonates

a heartbeat, body

nobody controls

moves alone and move the world

is the sun of my body

lives, ceaseless , I depend on it

and I've never seen

know how grateful I am to him?

appears light dazzles me

warms me

my eyes

my skin

crouch look

is a shadow, I cornered

gives me cold

my emotions

my feet

I like the shadow of things

thank you, dear shadow, suffer, cry, cry me

find the relief that makes me understand

is to assess to the details,

details hug with your invisible cloaks

depend on light, no light from you,

and yet you so important .

body's time

no space is right

one needs you,

at least for a few endless seconds.

is time of movement.

the permanent (and painful) motion

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not find it very funny ... Jostein Gaarder twenty

ay, ay, ay, it hurts.

One day, when he told me, I wondered: "What we need is not necessarily is nice." Until I found him normal. But then I realized ...

Not that the ideas are coherent, this is not a text, nothing is woven very well because the wool is very different from the wire, chewing gum, a hair . This is not a text. But it is understood.

Well, I asked: What is the difference? and I said, smiling: none.

But it was a lie.

And it did not matter. He knew very well what were the differences.

The difficulty of the language is the easiest to understand, although not even know to explain it.

But no importance to explain the differences were so obvious that it was silent.

Everything was different. It's like a scale model, where one piece is modified so that the model is re-armed. And he re-located.

walked along the coast. It was very soothing for some time not walking with someone without that awkward silence.

was true, I thought, there are silences white and black silences .

My specialty is the white silence, you know?

And we started talking.

is not difficult to talk to people.

is hard for people to talk to you. I do not know, maybe you think are important or too insignificant. So do not speak until they talk.

sometimes afraid, sometimes they have nothing to say.

And it's true.

I do not care. Every day there are fewer things that I care and every day I see my hands and I see more and more big and beautiful.

was cold and tired. I left early. I had to study.

But the worse excuses failure. And even known something new, I felt hurt.

lot.