Wednesday, December 31, 2008

Business Plan On Poultry Farm




he wrote.

Although thousands of miles and an ocean separated us, I was close ... I felt like I spoke softly, almost whispering, and I told her story. I read, however, and with amazing attention, as if he knew of a lifetime. Feeling a little strange, for a conversation between two strangers.

Suddenly, talk of distances and distance ... and began to discover that all the nostalgia that kept the young man now lived in me. I missed him because I knew deep in his shell, he missed his homeland and its people. I wanted to return to the neighborhood where he was born and casual witnessed his first steps ... But his neighborhood was not mine, his nostalgia was not mine ... it was all yours .. Why could not help but share it .. seize it?

-


His lyrics I suggest rebellion, youth, shouting, strength. The wings suggest trying my own, to be found somewhere on this crazy planet. Over the Atlantic, the sea or the River Plate .. To laugh like us to look through the camera, as I will see you ...


... It should be very huge wings and many desire to fly, to take the backpack and head out to seek new horizons ... It should also own brightness in order to be our guide, because sometimes the road is uphill, and the stars are not always as intense. We must be strong as rocks, brave as a warrior and have the integrity of the river that sometimes leaves without saying goodbye.


I do not know why I say this, nor do I have it clear to whom I speak, only by doing so, my Well I find it more pleasant and most beautiful night. The heat invades the yard, and spare me a shirt, you should be sleeping because it is already late at night and plugged into the nose. But regret very much to your regret, leave the window ajar, because I promised you ... put the diver and go to visit ....




A Bru ..

With love ...
And I chose this picture because I see you laugh.


Rusike-


Sunday, December 28, 2008

Flutter Sensation In Uterus




The day fell softly, in a delicate, almost imperceptible ...
The sun dips slowly. Perhaps
fear that its rays do not warm the hearts Glitter who governs us ... or perhaps because of shame. Shame because there are people who swim among the dark notes in a mansion, and there are children per minute die of hunger, alone and with a look of sadness.
The sun, which for various reasons he left, it had clarity in its wake, and the cry of a few who are silent at dusk.

They were born between the sand and stone, sprang from salt water ... They, who live beyond the horizon. Those who laugh even when it hurts ... those who live by the laughter of those who will surely arouse simply suggests a tear ... because it is not easy to live, let alone survive.

We, the nobodies ... them all. Those who clenched teeth and hide the pain, and laugh and cry, sometimes raw and sometimes in silence ... live because we live and die too .. die laughing. For the joy of seeing a happy child not compare even to see the moon on our backs ... Us, they ... those painted faces and red noses .. We are moving on a path that has no turning back ... we will not buy because the heart is priceless .. Because there is no currency more valuable than the smiles that inflate the chest, instead of the pockets ...

We who are infected. Us and Them. The highlights of color, and we They . Those of the white masks and black suits. The all the Nobodies. The many who are few, and those required for this circus of life. The hand full of physical spaces, to avoid falling into sanity. Us and them. 's happy to live and belong to the group of madmen sane.




Saturday, December 27, 2008

Inurl:view/shtml Evocam



Sometimes men put conditions that the heart is unable to bear.
Word of Mouth accept the small print, but just thinking about it I feel a lump in the chest. Lost again in that eternal maze I fell into the crack that makes me seed ... makes me be born and die as easily, at the foot of these letters ...
may be better, sit on the side of the road and wait, that will calm the tide.

I have no mood to play with the memory, perhaps this item should be a spectator and not the main character ... to protect what remains at heart. To protect the illusion and do not waste it with bad shots. I sit next to the daisies to bloom, and I expect the moon come get me. It is time for me ... flights must be kissing you today the comforted, but not my lips.


may be better, sit on the side of the road and wait, that will calm the tide.


To give fight?

Friday, December 26, 2008

Pune To Coorgdistance



arrives and stirs up my plans.
The reverse, puts them head to toe. Caress the grass with my hands and touched the sky with my feet ...
And I, slave to the words last night I was served warm, I enjoy the fuss, and I'm happy where I think.
Summer has her scent, her perfume lime trees, the stars his face .. Into the sea, with its roar reminds me of him, his strength, his bravery. Summer always brings to me, even through the wind ...
destroys
Summer time and clocks. And my dream that had long hung by a thread and do not let that throw a tightrope today dance the fire dance and grind with joy.
there is no hope beyond the horizon when he is sitting ... irony to playing with his shadow. There are no minutes, but the moments ...

Eternal eternísima Amélie

think that says it all, I play life .... Because you know, or feel you ... Silvio Rodriguez
~