The sun glimpsed just coughed and looked up at the veil made of smoke which covered the sky, shining there: on one side of the sky was yellow and in the evening, it shone with sufficient depth to increase my hangover, you might call a moral hangover, and I do not mean a criterion that obey a set of values, but because of that melancholy which I was banished from my wishes I could not call as much less as melancholy and nostalgia and depression word brings to mind a history [1] , the streets were flooded smoke, it was all started by a fire that occurred in the delta islands near the city, I imagined the flames that were barely touched sparks mowing wet dark fluid is unfathomable that river, the early days nobody worried, asthma that morning returned to me as a threat, my back could not inflate enough without coughing, and if I dared to do an attack that could occur for years had been banished [2] , I raised the option to die that way, suicide was just me seductive in those moments when he saw him away from me, on those nights where cheap beer floating through my temples with overconfidence that lay in the conviction that nothing would wake up, he snapped a shot that rose imagery with cigarette ashes on the floor dead, with direction to a dimension inaccessible to me in moments of sobriety; I walked toward the subway, had to perform my daily tasks, such that I postponed the images that sprang from me and returned to the same place of origin and shelled hits from an eternity as I walked away from my birth, my eyes faded [3] or at least I assumed so, well, the point is that as I approached the station, the smell of charred tree filled me with an absence emerged only silver lining to any absence of life before me, so I could take my vigils, bury them in my daily life without that overwhelmed me and so achieve better respond to each of the daily chores as simply did not interest me, the day promised, the fire was increasing and did not stop newsletters predict the weather situation would get worse as the hours were advancing, lit the last cigarette I had left in the pack, cursed because he knew he was going to have another fast bound [4] , but soon I was stopped by a policeman, you can not do, he said, and I with my notes of fear, with reverence I always assumed by subtraction of myself, for my discouragement, by my total lack of any movement that involves an opposition salutary lesson, I put the cigar in my pocket, I did not understand the reason for restriction, this was the scenario for smokers, in short, all were breaking the lungs and this gave us addicts, the quality of being health-friendly elements; continuing flood of smoke and I could not smoke. I am prey to this attempt to protect ourselves from death as we die.
Aszeta
[1] Once my cousin was admitted to a mental hospital, she believed to be Marie Antoinette, and the solution was to supply pills to be used daily, my cousin used them according to the recipe given, but after a while tired, and although at first fell into a state of silence similar to that of its crisis, never managed to recur in the same state, now works as a brilliant engineer in a prestigious firm, and simply lets spend the day in that state mood that swings like a canoe at the mercy of the waves and never sinks.
[2] ventilating and its effect only comes when a woman or a man I like, is revealed in my viewing space, which incidentally is quite limited, if I have in mind the progressive myopia my piece will look.
[3] My nephew is growing: As a baby in her eyes caught a glimpse of infinity, but now I despise him as much as others, has been lost in this mass of humanity given the ephemeral features on .
[4] always I preferred to spend the money on a few mouthfuls of tar in anything that involved the movement of my teeth.
0 comments:
Post a Comment