I've always been obsessive, moody, chaotic, compulsive envious, insecure ... I'm not ashamed to admit it, though it may seem incredible, I use these flaws to meet virtues (extremes meet). Thanks to the obsession, for example, managed to finish projects because of my lack of discipline would half.
once told a loved one: "I see, baby, shining clearness" (Claude Nougaro dixit. I met him through my friend Poppy , who has heart vegetable). Then I found myself searching for the shadows that guide me: serendipity, chance, fate, human phenomena, vampires, cannibals, multi-armed deities or infinite languages, sirens dead, voodoo priests, loved and dark areas that disturb me and I forced to follow in his footsteps, to write about our meetings. Meetings which, coincidentally, in the most enlightened, sunny days when the trees are in bloom (jacaranda, orange, cherry).
Now I want to write the light of eternity, the intensity of the sun, wind, water fresh, of utopias, of the sublime. But I know I can only do so from the dark and twisted part of my soul. (People who know this place and, yet, he loves me. Even if you do not believe it.)
few weeks ago I had a fortunate encounter and I remembered a song * to mourn and then colored on exile and take deer that poke to talk. Along with the fawn, inevitably, my heart turned to the novel I wanted to write ( Dead After , David MartÃn del Campo, of course. Another of my obsessions.) But also the story appeared now write, which itself belongs to me.
feel the pains of childbirth ... I'm about, in my darkness, light brightness. * The song is
"Color" disk Malafama of Fratta, who has always been an omen of light in my life.
once told a loved one: "I see, baby, shining clearness" (Claude Nougaro dixit. I met him through my friend Poppy , who has heart vegetable). Then I found myself searching for the shadows that guide me: serendipity, chance, fate, human phenomena, vampires, cannibals, multi-armed deities or infinite languages, sirens dead, voodoo priests, loved and dark areas that disturb me and I forced to follow in his footsteps, to write about our meetings. Meetings which, coincidentally, in the most enlightened, sunny days when the trees are in bloom (jacaranda, orange, cherry).
Now I want to write the light of eternity, the intensity of the sun, wind, water fresh, of utopias, of the sublime. But I know I can only do so from the dark and twisted part of my soul. (People who know this place and, yet, he loves me. Even if you do not believe it.)
few weeks ago I had a fortunate encounter and I remembered a song * to mourn and then colored on exile and take deer that poke to talk. Along with the fawn, inevitably, my heart turned to the novel I wanted to write ( Dead After , David MartÃn del Campo, of course. Another of my obsessions.) But also the story appeared now write, which itself belongs to me.
feel the pains of childbirth ... I'm about, in my darkness, light brightness. * The song is
"Color" disk Malafama of Fratta, who has always been an omen of light in my life.
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