Today I did. I went out with a short-sleeved black shirt, knowing that it would cool. I thought: come out, you will do and spend so cold, you'll cry for what you have done . Indeed, when I got home I cried. A cold skin was angry with me. I took off my shirt and looked in the mirror and thought: look at you, if you're a kid, and you did, you did ... how could you do this, since I am your most faithful companion wherever you . I screamed to shut up. I took the quilt from my bed revolt and leaving me half-naked and clothe him. And I thought it looked like an olive sad. And I laughed and cried again. I read him as he lit a cigarette. And I thought as I read: bastard, you bastard ...
Today a new cycle. I do not know what time it closed above, perhaps that day with little quixotic on the terrace, wondering if we'd fly or end up with the casings scattered on the asphalt. Today is the day I do not know where to start. Without doubt, this has already started a few days ago it started ... days have only served to sleep, read, and go back to sleep. Days when I have not written a line, none. Days and days have gone by so slow and so helpless, they have hardly been noticed.
And here I am, half olive sad, saying something like a goodbye.
