Ir al contenido principal

Sin mentiras

Hay veces en que me quedo sin mentiras 
Que no las uso más 
Que no brotan como un reto a la inteligencia 
Que no salen para tapar ningún agujero

Hay días en que se va también el drama
En que no existe nada más que fluir, moverse y hacer mejor
En que las ganas de pelear o de indignarse se han marchado
En que lo único que trata la vida es de hacerlo un poco mejor

Y en muchos de esos días me encuentro en paz
Y en muchos otros extraño una parte de mi 

Comentarios

Publicar un comentario

Entradas populares de este blog

Ocio de sábado

Se alquila! Apuesto muchacho para salir fines de semana. Dispuesto a cualquier cosa con tal de evitar el ocio semanal. Diversas facetas, divertido y apuesto. Favor de abstenerse si usted no tiene más de 17 años o menos de 33. Preferentemente chicas lindas... Informes, dejar un comentario en este post... Saludos!
5 comentarios
Leer más

I’ve never feared so much to something that by nature should be beautiful. It is because sometimes beauty is reminding me just where the line is drawn. By the times the flowers were born the permafrost should be there, the ice on the earth was never there. By the time they were opened no one were walking to spread the news. They flourished alone, in the wrong moment, in a world that will be consumed by the fatality of its beauty #flowers #february #blossom🌸 #climatechangeisreal

via Instagram https://ift.tt/2IepVAw
Publicar un comentario
Leer más

Writing again

Dear JC, It's peculiar, isn't it, how the mind clings to memories, especially those we wish to forget? Some nights, I find myself ensnared in a web of dreams, each thread woven with echoes of you. You, who dominated my thoughts, still reign in the kingdom of my nighttime musings. I remember, with an unsettling clarity, every encounter, every word, and every smirk. The way your laughter would echo down hallways, a haunting melody that played on all my strings. The cold glint in your eyes as you found new ways to assert your dominance, your power, unyielding and absolute. In these dreams, I revisit those days, each detail meticulously preserved in the museum of my mind. The corridors, once mundane, now seem like twisted labyrinths in my dreams, with you as the ever-present Minotaur, both feared and revered. Sometimes, I wonder if you ever think of those days. Do you ever recall the weight of your words and actions? Or have they dissolved into the ether, insignificant and forgotte...
Publicar un comentario
Leer más