E 'finished May. A fortnight is over in May of 2010, the month with the "M" capitalized, the thirty days of the condor. Thirty-one, to be exact, to chase the words on the keys as if they were girls from the short skirt, to spy while under the shadow reflected on the thighs there is something more than a trivial thought. It 's been fast, this time amid the breezes bearing seasons. I won, I won. I feel like I have climbed Mount Everest with his bare hands without going through the hassle of precautions. I flew many different atmospheres lying belly up, lying on the kite crazy movement, scorched by the suns and rain. I have never fallen below the level of reasonable height, because for the peaks that I needed to touch children's dreams, the ones that are circling kites. I thought that I could not get off, I lost along the way too many uncertainties, the certainties and life is good but do not write anything interesting. There is so much need to stay in the air when you realize that you have taken off. For me, who has been observed from the pen of everything that happens at eye level, back to walk with others is no longer possible and I did not even afraid to go down for a moment if you promise to bring me up here.
I only fear that your eyes hide the emptiness that is attached to the kite string, but that just throw your hands forward and with the experience of skinned knees I know what it means to fall into the abyss of a day of exile and find a night of European Champion.
