domingo, 7 de julio de 2019

Reflections.

Here I am again. It´been a long long time without watching you or even knowing about u, but life goes on, Is that true? Life goes on? I'm completely free now. free in my daily life experience and free in my speech, in my acts. 
And I can see birds flying all over my head singing absurd (even antique songs) it has no sense. 
I am still alive. Some day I will reveal the whole truth and that they (which is not very far) something will happen.
Ok, enough now, tired of writing. I should stop. I talk too much.
And, of course, it's true, I had friends and, sometimes, we remember the old days lived in the mist, into the mist.
But everything is different now. The old days are gone.The old friends are gone and the mist, the mist is still covering your eyes but now is too late and I'm tired of writing. I should stop. I've talked too much. Your name has been cried ot loud and the afternoon fades away slowly (very slowly).
And then, at night, everything seems to be so, so far, so distnt (in time and space)and I can do nothing but stare at the moon and sometimes smile a bit.
And thus, we carry on, searching for something unknown (or sometimes, seaching for something known but nearly forgotten).
But you should stay with me. Here ans know, in silence in a completely silence. We saw the trails of the planes in a glorious evening (remember) the sky absolutely ( if something could be absolute) blue, a kind of blue never seen before, never felt before.
And the voices singing, sounding strange but nice, attractive, in the deepest night you tried to say something to grasp the inaprehensible sensation (and your eyes still alive shinning asking for something old but beautiful).
And the time passes fast we stare the cars moving fast downthere and we hear(sometimes the kids shouting out and laughing) but we are not able to understand what they say. To undesrtand the tears in their eyes. to understand the faces ( the small faces) full of joy and passion but free.
I´ve passed a long time here watching and it´s time for me to go.
But it`s pretty sad to be here alone, looking out the blind window and searching and wating for something in silance: in completely and absolutely silence, a blue silence of oblivion and despair meanwhile in the yard we can hear the strange laughs of the kids (how can they imagine what`s gonna happen) how can they guess the next move. How can they, even, find out their names or ages or... but the sun is always burning our memories. Our warm houses our cool hearts everything in flames. And it's late, very late and I should dissapear slowly tracing your path without showing my feelings, not even showing my face, my strength, my pain.

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