There’s no such thing as improvisation in this world, it’s all in the mind, and its existence is your very own precedent. It’s like watching the rain fall in front of your eyes, your fears, your doubts, your questions, your fake truths and all your vices taking human form at last, from ashes to dust. Identity remains the same, as you wake to be witness of your own renascence, empty spaces between body and soul, things that no one can explain and all those constantly changing missing pieces. Panacea, take your aim and name it after the first meaningful silhouette that comes to your mental cinema.
Why do you keep on believing the unbelievable, reaching out for a world that doesn’t belong to you anymore?
What is it? What drives you? Religion? Love? Power? Uncertainties?
What?
Why do you keep on pretending that you’re someone you’re not, when you can be so much more that simply that?
Why is it that your face stands out in the faceless crowd?
very good girlfriend...
nice to read in english once in a while, hopefully I´ll write the next one in english too...
bueno, ahora en castellano. Esta bueno... es casi metafisico, jajaja.
te quiero
besotes...
Tommy