Once again, every day clearer, cleaner, more ... that I, bigger. Simply put an excuse "not I have time "to not end up writing what I long to write, the stories of love and debauchery that both had in mind, which occupied many hours in my head. Used as an excuse but not to mislead anyone, if not rather to hold me, to not write everything slowly comes into my head.
My head is slowly hearing sounds, thoughts, ideas, explanations ... had not heard before, I would not let him hear. I guess I'll be more direct than usual, as always. A love that apparently has no name, a passion that apparently is not reciprocated.
rain on my window now, that rain that only I can see, since it only can feel my window as much as I do taking his hand and opening it to notice how dropwise ends their way into my palm. I would be a drop of rain that has come to an end but I can not leave here either because I have things to do, apparently ... someone you love ... I guess this time will be the rain ... I guess the fact that we now write before trying to get back to sleep then ending up my eyes to rest for today.
the other day ... I found a picture, half-finished ... I guess it would be a board with only two colors ... I was struck by the phrase that was in the middle of that folio, but apparently now I can not remember. Why? For now sleeps with me ... I'm sure that when next I see the words come to mind me ... but I am afraid to repeat myself because I loved so much and said so many things in my sounds hypocritical, the profile of common guy that lives in the world spreading his stupidity way from there you go.
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