Seeking something out of me lost inside, perhaps because there are more buses out that those who dare to enter the empty house that is my heart. However, it happens occasionally that some event triggers a series of images and words that make me remember who I am. Yesterday I ran with the story of the bear that was not a bear and remembered, not only that I am a bear (as they said Xibal and Juan Pablo) but I can not even be trying to convince me otherwise. I'm a bear who finds meaning in his life writing poetry.
0 comments:
Post a Comment