quarta-feira, 11 de julho de 2012
Sleepless in Madrid
I am...sleepless in this particular moment...in this ever growing place...this gradually pompous city. Do miss the infinite capacity of creating attention for what I intend to pass on...to teach. A glimpse of old habbits, might I say. That's why I redeem myself on writing in Her Magesty's worldwide known form of communication. From this hotel room, all that surrounds me appears to have been put there on purpose. There's a utterly will to change it all, implicit on every move I've been taking the past few hours. Even this sudden nervously self inflicted form of expression, seems part of a third dimension. Where am I? I randomly decide on words. How about a y? And all these seldomly chosen letters dance in front of my eyes. Am I going crazy right now? Am I questioning myself? Am I even here? No answers...just silence. Only the rhythmical click of the heart behind it all. You can actually hear it...as if it were part... I recon it comes from within. From where all matters of the mind receive the reddish juice pumped again...and again. And there...the central circle of fundamental truths...lies the flick of reasons why...I can't sleep. Need a cigarret...cheers.