Ando a little lost. Writing. Writing. Writing. Written. I wrote. Writing. Writing. Thinking. Deleting. Remembering. Purging. Digging. Review. Invented. Imagine. Being. Ceasing to be. Deciding. Back. Screaming. Silence. Hiding.
I still have few fueza for blogging, the truth is that everything I am doing in the two projects that I have decided to concentrate. Had I known this was going to do so I would have gotten a firefighter. Now I understand why I spent so much time trying to do something else. Trying to devote to something that was more of everything but this.
This emotionally worn to the point that there is no way to explain it. Sometimes I have the soul like a pass. These boxes out of a red. Black and wrinkled. Scrutinized yourself, get in different roles is very complex. One is found and lost, found and lost.
Sometimes I feel like the sea. Other rigid as a tree. Other unstable as sand. Other more like a muffin. One feels that it is everything and nothing.
I do not take much, but I have not finished. I'm here. I have not gone. Is what I wanted to tell today. I have to for this chair because the periods of writing are so intense I can not stand or back, and eyes.
Here we go. Every day requires less.
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