Desconectado (recuperando fragmentos)

El pequeño detalle de las coincidencias nos tiene aquí. Han pasado tantas palabras por mi cabeza que no te sorprenda que tu nombre se filtre entre mis ideas. Te llamas libertad y soledad al mismo tiempo, eres fría como los amaneceres solitarios y tan brillante que con la acalorada sonrisa...

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Mono blanco en la nieve

He despertado con la misma ansiedad de cada mes. Atrapado en la misma botella. Estoy cubierto, estoy desnudo, no importa. Conozco ahora la rutina sobrevivir a lo que hay afuera, aunque nunca vaya a salir. No hay diferencia o distancia, cuan grande o pequeño sea el camino. Sigo siendo un momento, una señal, un punto. Le he ganado al tiempo y me muevo despacio. Despertar al alma sería imperdonable, pero hago el suficiente ruido para que sepa que sigo siendo yo. Sólo por hoy en un momento, en un señal en un punto. Sigo siendo yo. Un mono blanco en la nieve

Frontier

You are the expression of the limits just from your name. Every detail of you is expressed in the closest way to perfection, but it has the advantage of being just simple to construct even more perfect being. There's no description for that. Your limits come from the sky, as the colour of your eyes, and the deepest part of the infinite is not brighter than your smile, the shadows are part of the contrast to understand the complementarities between light and dark. Every hair of yours is made of durable finest thread, golden and bright as forbidden treasures, longer and not so straight to be lost in its deepest aroma. Your beauty is as natural as the warming sun rays after a long winter, fresh and relieving, sweet all the time. The expression is candid, and the look is unstoppable, but everything conjugated is what makes you strong. Is not any part of you outside the frontier of perfection, but it's the combination of everything that turns you, human. The symmetry of your hips i...

Fears

I'm afraid of becoming different. I'm fearful of one morning being another person, of thinking too much, of questioning everything and trying to get away melancholy. I'm terrified of knowing everyone, of saying hello to all those people and remembering their names, of not being timid, of being a kind and friendly person the people says I am. Of course, I am not that. I don't keep a smile on my life; neither is nice nor sexy. I am too worried about thinking all time, about the conversations with myself and the healthy practices of waking up early, reading a lot, exercise and not eat meat. What will happen to me in this way? What will I become on this road? What will I do with the vacuum of no pain? I don't want to be that handsome guy, I don't want the cute smiling I see on the mirrors every morning, I don't want to smell sweet. I don't know what is happening; I don't know what is different now. I want my obscure Mondays; I need my unsolved dramas, th...

Spaceship

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