April 21 2 008
One was once, a beautiful courtesan.
With its rosy cheeks, and a sweet
and ready gait.
With its arms in pitchers, he was asking its man to start, the young and straight good man,
to the bedroom I accompany,
I rub in a warm bath, which was carrying dignity.
April 19 2 008
We take one month and ten days of life and amazed I have remained on having seen the statistics of this your blog and this with posicionarnos in only two general searchers as there are Google and Yahoo, as it proves to be alone to say to you that they read to us of Australia, USA, Saudi Arabia, Argentina, I Center Europe and thousand more places to more unlike which, and this is alone thanks to you that with your contributions in the shape of articles and comments of answers, you have done that they read to us in almost half of this wonderful world.
Why perform you the best thing, I have dared to realize a musical video with compiled images of Internet in gratitude to you and that modestly I give it to you from more deeply of me, in order up there cheer you to keep on publishing these pedacitos of each one, which like stars rain you are depositing in this binnacle. Of any heart thanks for giving me the most valued thing of you, your own extract.
April 19 2 008
I see solitude great …
I anticipate many gaps that exhaust me, observe to the love strolling around without course and without control. I have read many linked feelings imprisoned in the leeway … There are emotions that do not know where to go.
Emotions that they are afraid to continue. Emotions that they are afraid to eliminate. Emotions that do not give up being real. Emotions resigned them before beginning feeling. Emotions that hide for not being able to express them, Emociones que no renuncian a ser vividas. Emociones renunciadas antes de empezar a sentirlas. Emociones que se esconden por no saber expresarlas,
April 19 2 008
They say that the night it is a fear, and I say to you that the day is a fear, it is in where nobody is capable of living through the truth, of communicating what really he feels, well for fear of offending or for fear of being offended.
But that is the fear of the night? What one thinks and he does not dare to communicate to its neighbor or the sleep that will never exhibit to the freedom of the word …
God, that happiness would feel if he knew that this is my fear, since this way I would be understood when I say that the night it is my passion and the dawn my pain.
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