- I would tell you all that I was always taught.
Now you have come to be my ears and my whole will. You know that this environment is provided wanted me to remember.
- Adelante!. Tomorrow is with us. As always, it is another. I will not be beaten.
was all a jumble of ideas. But he liked. He had always been what he called the attention. And that room allowed him to combine all the colors so nice, all those thoughts so varied that had emerged to invent. They had released the puck always hidden from his lips, the mystery abstract feelings.
Those walls were not alone. He had built on fantasy the whole of their time to rest. And had fun with them.
No, those walls were not empty. I had always dreamed of being there, spinning, trying to see reality the same way he saw it.
- what else I can say?.
- Shut up!. Keep thinking.
Something told him that there was someone else. Although the walls were mildewed by steam. He did not hear footsteps, for interior and quiet they were, but he felt its presence, even I could feel her movements.
had already begun to imagine that faceless spirit or breath, those words were not written down anywhere, but he felt like his. It was good to befriend solitude ...
- Now I see clear some feelings so quiet, now I seem alive, I would like freedom, because I feel that every day I would take.
You know, I like talking to you, but know that they exist. I think everything has meaning in life if you live around his love.
It describes a world of child, which was then ... to get my hopes began to fall in love. I titled it: "He liked to be like me." And it was this being who beat me, that child who was inside me ... a way that I drove in three years.
When I went back over what we had left, I thought it was worth it. But once again caught me off balance the harsh reality, cruel.
Life is not 3-II-1988
as before, and I feel like I stole
something deep inside of me
. The sky
is no longer blue, or clear, and in my soul
feel the absence of a love
who has given everything for me.
I see his eyes, that
is what I bursts. I removed
treasure that gave birth
to my childhood.
Love feels no hurt 6-II-1988
the world. Or wait, even if memories
which previously could make sense. And today
when it comes from.
No roads, though the trees go
and barely visible, although the stones
bother and stick to your feet
sands nonsense. I know I run, but it is in the landscape
has a name and a farewell
weakening. I would like to escape to say that there
silence, but it's so deep, it becomes
again as deep
I write, I write alone and just think about what could have happened.
wanted to make a group of poets among the three, but in the end it was not possible. But it helped me because I could but helped me, because I could believe what I wrote and give an image. Left home, he shared other concerns, and so what I wrote was taking body. The fight left to become something uniquely mine, something I could share, understand.
They helped me out of all this mental turmoil in which I had been, was knowing the love, understanding, too. And it all started to take effect in mid-1990, 1991 and 1992: a few years quite fruitful.
My path was strewn with wars 27-VIII-1990
and cries
to reach you. It was difficult to understand.
of sadness and mourning,
confusing road
and blood. My path was broken by
time
and mud roads. And the wars were so great
I never knew
where they would arrive. My path was full of trifles
and
delicious moments that were worth
remember and write.
Many times I could do it. I was like you,
wandering street, full of love,
joy.
Like you,
hope and dream, always ready to hear words
and fly.
Today I can, sea, forget my sorrows today
and I fixed the target of your dawn,
your bank.
Today I feel that I can cross your tenderness
and your arrogance,
why I escaped
the world an instant
and I stand before you.
Today my book has become infinite.
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