... I went back to thinking and thought.
closed the door of this house, I put the poems to soak and let them air dry. The
gourmets say they still lack a couple of afternoons of sun glasses.
Too much moisture, I suppose, although there are days when I find myself giving back a little.
And I do not necessarily bad, it's me I walk without moving his feet.
Life is a giant conveyor belt.
and turned one of those dreams I always thought unattainable without my hardly important.
Maybe that's why I was given, because I gave it permission to land with enough natural not feel too out of place.
too, I mean, because something always remains. That feeling
disengage steadily. If a seven glasses of retired home, courtesy of Pacharán Souk, wrinkled and no corners in the middle of a deck of poker unused Estoril Casino.
guess that's the mark of the house, my eternal stamp of identity.
Why avoid it? Assuming you
avancé, I dreamed I woke up and the dinosaur was still there.
And here I am, on the eve of the eve of the next year, wanting to continue fulfilling dreams without leaving this way yellow brick, red, white and green still gives me warm each winter.
Happy New Year, dear.
I feel fortunate to be around.
Poster: Rioja Wine Fine Ruby Ramón Casas
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