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is no different today, tomorrow

I will not deny that sleep during the night by hearing your voice, I dream of times and things, many of them that never happened and no, because I am a addicted to the endless stories, dying to write as to be near you, the nights may not be calm but do not know, I'm writing. You are more than the reason why I write, so you of why you do not, I love to play with our memories and fears lived together two, abarazados looking, daring the two to a future that challenges us with obstacles, but so, so love is always complicated. Today I write and I have many stories in me, quisera do so for several days but it is not easy, I think ABARE crazy and can not play pool tomorrow. You know at this time to escrbir pensadno in you, I'm right where a few days gossip about love in front of a park in Lurin, Will we be together forever? I said no, and added, "always think you, but together, it depends on the two ...". tkm

... I returned to escrbir, that's good but I still believe that crazy faileth not easy to escape from a story created where they often do not control the end, I am driven, but nevertheless it is reassures me that upon awakening, everything will be just on paper and you'll be there Bulky. today is different because I have fear to follow, no nothing you.

I will not deny being in love, is not ethical for me to write under the influence alucinojenos if so, you inspire and stun the time, do not you know that your silence encourage me something more than a question, what will you do?, rewrites, maybe thinking on you or the things that this cycle did not, maybe it's time to turn and change my world view about love is unusual, you ask why? It's addictive to play with our memories and fears we had, where yesterday I'm writing today to see a star sighs through, what we want? together forever. Today it is not you. Should I continue? Inevitable is to stop a story, if those I love to do, there is no end in my writings, as in reality the end can not be imposed, everyone has that right, the right to choose an end, you also tell destination.

[continued tomorrow perhaps called]

[... is it:)]

Now if you'll keep browsing the words but in my classic bulky sheets of paper. Bye

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The Wheel of the Year Staying on the sidelines

There's a fine line between helping and meddling. And not trace us, but the other person. Is not the same reach out to pull the arm.

There are situations that are seen most clearly from the outside, but there are many in which the factors involved, or how they work, are not fully appreciated without being stuck to the neck. And get into quicksand to get someone who has fallen on them will only lead us to sink us both.

We tend to overestimate, in relation to others. To think we are more discerning, or more skilled. To think you know what happens, and even they prefer. That we pay adequate support, without considering for a moment if it really is, or is even necessary. At best, we aim to guide the way we prefer, at worst, even pushed in the direction we think "right."

Let the other the power to decide what they want to do with his life, the power to choose whether or not our help. Keep us apart even from what we believe our responsibility, willing to go if you ask for, but inactive until then, much as we think is needed or we can make a difference. Because that decision is not for us to take it to us.

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[In other words] Destiny

Because I can not let it conquer me boredom or exhaustion, I have to move, albeit so slowly that hardly seems to move forward. Go ahead ... just because it does.

DESTINATION

And
here and there and from here and back again
to go back and breathless
and the beginning or end of the cliff close to the end
or other means or resurrected it to that or the opposite wheel
and eats you up and here
meeting is not
and from top-down and bottom-up greedy disgusted to live between bones

or sterile perpetual disagreement

to other more
or thick restarting pigs
setbacks and untimely when not to rough but a complex flight herniated
hot or iced
and round and round so many stubborn nut

to devote full or three quarters and halves

sick and
quarter to muddle exhausted
waste beds or take day and night without resting against the nerves of mystery from beyond

from here
while rotating brief stay with the eternal aspect of the apparent or alleged trip
back and neck-deep in all directions
nonsense
sofocatedio
in nail, skin and feed and for the sake of just

Oliverio Girondo

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Even in the darkest moments when circumstances block us, or when our best efforts for being useless just when it seems that everything around us conspires to strangle and not be moving ... even then, and there are still good things happening.

What happens is that we often go unnoticed while, enervated, try to anticipate the next blow, or we fall back on ourselves, self-pity. But are there, even small things, and realize its existence may help to lessen the burden, to make it less dark night and remind us of the dawn. If we ignore compared to all the evil that surrounds them, we will remove that relief to ourselves, making it unpleasant, and even prolonging the slump.

See it all pink is naive and a danger, but seeing it all black is just childish. Every little detail has its own color, and although it is inevitable that some are mixed with other sometimes, we must learn to appreciate themselves, and not as a reflection of our mood or our circumstances.

We can not let discouragement ringworm our perception. The times when things seem to get worse are the moments when, exactly, we must be more attentive, and more open to small life counterparts.