The moon is full of looks that got lost looking for an answer.

The moon is full of looks that got lost looking for an answer.

I am tired, very tired my mind wants to rest and sleep cannot solve it, it scares me. I don’t understand what is happening to me, at one point I feel normal and suddenly I begin to remember, to blame myself, to hate myself and it makes me want to cry so badly. And it is present, that darkness that threatens to consume me and I am very afraid …

I am becoming addicted to loneliness, tranquility, silence, not speaking and not letting anyone in …

once someone approached me and said: excuse me, do we know each other? I said: no, I don't think so. And he replied: it is not a question, it is a proposal ...

Although time passes, there are words, moments and feelings that are never forgotten …

My body lying on the cold ground of my garden, my ears caressed by the soft sound emitted by the leaves, the cold breeze caressing my face and my gaze lost between constellations. Wouldn’t that be a << perfect night? >>.


People live escaping from the rain, trying not to get wet, not to ruin their shoes, not to screw up their hair. But from time to time we don't arm ourselves with madness, we embrace the lucidity of that moment and jump into puddles, we soak our soul, we get drunk in that oil of nature that we are ourselves. "
And then it happens
that on any day
you run into winter
head-on with the
melancholy, and you
give to look at the sky,
for losing yourself in it,
until you feel that you are
there, up, being
cloud or drizzle.

I thank you, not only because you were there when there were rainbows, but from the beginning when you danced with me in the rain.

That moment when you finish reading a book, you look around you, and you realize that everyone is busy in their lives. And … you, you just suffered an emotional trauma from a book.
