Some things just come out. To scream at the sky, to run freely, to just feel the wind in your hair to flow through without making more noise than the silence of the night.
And I can not just let you go, make me crazy with those details that are wonderful, simple or vague that they seem ... make me who I am.
I can not help, there are times when I wanted to forget everything, everyone, and to appreciate you in the distance, and able to scream into the void, and to mourn with the world that is not.
Things happen. People spend. Everything in life happens as well as river flow, without causing major upheaval in our lives, seeing her beauty hides in the shadow of the real. And now I've noticed, and it is late.
I have been so misled by using nonsense words, to express what I feel, I can feel what I feel is so simple to me is almost impossible. Admire the life, nature, to appreciate the beauty of a woman, have the facility to let flow a stream of simple details that seduce even the simplest of flowers scattered over the world ... are things that today I can not do.
I have a life, one of those recounted in the book: a life of fantasy, love and heartache, and whatever beautiful thing I could find at each step.
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