March 2012
Estoy enamorado de una guitarra...
“I’ve loved her since that moment at the park, I love her now and every minute in between.”
You deserve, the chocolates I gave you, you deserve the time I share with you. You deserve so many things that I want you to have. Thath I do not know if I am worthless anymore…
“El olor de tu perfume mezclado con el cigarro…”
– LeBrau, y ahoira lo vivo yo…
Random thoughts
I can not get her out of my head, or sistem. She is not part of it, but she fits like belonging into.
No coherent thoughts: the only way we function...
I know her more by her eyes, not the whole features of her, all that comes out of them is “beautiful” and that’s not even the right word to start explaining it. The word is not “beautiful.” The word is “dear.”
She have the dearest eyes I’ve ever met.
I feel appreciative of her right now.
Her kindness seems constitutional. I probably overextend myself while describing her but when I...
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“If things were easy to find, they wouldn’t be worth finding.”
Vergación! Te quiero nojoda!
Hey tu, estoy en ojeda!
“La gente que espera “El amor de su vida”, debería esperar mejor una...”
– LeBrau, Conversas con el gordo.
It's ok.
Mientras más chances de salir mal tenga, mientras más miedo te dé, mientras sean más las probabilidades que tengas de morir en el proceso.
Más vale la pena intentarlo.
Puedes vivir una vida protegida y vulgarmente estable, o puedes tomar aquello que más te asusta y volverlo tuyo.
This is why!
I do not need you to be intermitent.
I want you to be incandescent.
I can not believe into something that You doubt.
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Marico, marico, marico, un paquete de MRW!!!!
“Te llamo para avisarte que este año tu cumple tiene 26 horas, igual ya son las...”
– Belu, regalándome cosas lindas desde hace rato.
“I already had those things but it wasn’t enough. I wanted more. I still want...”
– LeBrau, al viento también se le habla.
Circumstances
I opened the unlocked door of moira, dragging my small suitcase of feelings behind. The room had tall ceilings with no roof and green curtains made of tree leaves. A woman’s spotless dress, and sandals were placed close together on the carpet made of cement. A fat purse was next to the wineglasses. I lingered over the stoic surfaces. Something felt strange and also perfect. Was this even really...