flowers grandfather. 2010, Subirats. 
Thursday, January 27, 2011
Sunday, January 9, 2011
Metal Scooter Wheels.
Ferment in my throat and
Who am I, a word that begins with a capital letter or a person who starts with a lowercase letter? All people are the first person? Am I really the first person of all? I'm not sure the first one that I can remember. Singular, then? So boring, however. First person daily, if anything.
Cold m'รจ more familiar, down to earth, like snow and cold air columns. And there s'affeziona even when it's better than me, he starts the convection currents and I faint at most invective. The cold is discreet and quiet, is out the window and protects. If time is an enemy, the cold is an ally.
Are you happy? Why, you may be in some way or something? Can an apple be redder than it appears red? And if the apple is red, red is it? The apple and red are the same thing? I'm happy as a red apple. And I have the stalk. Happiness tell me how a space. Cross it with noisy steps, one who feels happy because he believes they can afford to walk funny, happy and loves to be admired. Tap tap, jump.
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