Trix
laughs like an open window, as if a sun fills the breast of German warm and vibrant. Trix ri blank and see green, and I wonder why.
The sea speaks to the sand and the wind starts
- "Where you going, wind?"
Trix is \u200b\u200bthe first girl I see with Arin on the nose. Ando fascinated. Caged. Last night, he lay down beside me and opened fire faltering - ziiiiiiiiip - rack bag, smiling pieces. I swallowed saliva and tried axitadamente adiviñarlle the wishes of palpable, wanting to write a screenplay without even knowing oneself to the reading. She paroume between maternal and disappointed, separating my hands gently. No option Reval. - ziiiiiiiiiiiip -
Yesterday night in the truck did the French bigotudos touching the award, when I played with fire and shame Fiume maldecindo my condition proto-man, man to the point. Trix is \u200b\u200bthe first woman I hear follar bigotudos French with that touch the award, and now laughs.
- "you know, They really made me feel like a woman"
Do not tell me this, Walkíria nose pierced, you still do not know digest.
Ralph spoke to sit on the rocks of dusk and ask who is behind the mountain.
- "Why You Simply go there Don'ts Ralph? It's quite near!" -
_ "Oh, forget it, I was just guessing ..."-
Bañámonos naked in the afternoon, of a Mediterranean terciopelo warm and poet. The sea salt draws with ink freedom in my young body. Every inch of skin. Indelible.
Antonio is Mexican, and can not talk to anyone, is punished with isolation for a disciplinary matter what anyone tells me. In one eye hide a project, and the other a deep sadness. Also Jo, and miudiña tremorenta, who explains to me what is a regression, and as these literally lifted the lid of Sesos to heal. I saw her say that did not work. Crazy is sad and happy. John is sad. Charlie is the only of the entire community that has smoking and drinking alcohol not from grapes. It has a tiny wooden casetiño where he plays on putting whiskey and tall timber in their nightmares. Charlie only wants peace, what it lacks in. Was the war in Vietnam and returned fucked, I think because he fucked the other. He taught that one of Opinel 7 is the best tool for working wood, and since then I always have one. Causes boxwood looks butter.
Ralph, Anthony, Jo and Charlie, together with other forty or fifty people go to enjoy their last months on Earth, convinced as they are (Charlie not so) that these next three years come the End of the World. They concluded this after studying concienzudo, disciplined way, for years, a lot of scripture and apocrypha that handle with veneration. They decided that, given the imminence of the event, it suspended all activities that were not related to the study of the Scriptures and apocryphal huge (dealing with worship). I do not know why they insist on trying to convince me to sleep in the upper cortijo. I will not, do not wire these people. I ascend at night to dine with them because they put wine, and I emborráchome. They mind when I have eyes too open to where the children create in the community who are not couples concrete .... that there fathers and mothers in a familiar sense. Only organic. Ja! After the scenes where the oasis giving stumbling under the white cord of gravel and moon. In front of the Lomas existing couples seeking accommodation, dogs asaetan acurrucados theories on who you love and families who are not, at night, are.
Derogouse the right to free sex and plural: the planet will not have for their children. I'm late. (Damn). The Brotherhood
is a cult / religious community Iank. Went there for problems with the law, which does not allow children s @ s out of school. I never got to realize how to finance them. They gave a time in Israel and now hang around here, with their long beards and the Scriptures to coast. And Pelias the musical Hair, which seems to be the one I have and all Fridays to see again as if for the first time, all gathered in a courtyard inside the cortijo. They live in a oasis of palm trees and chickens which opens onto a rocky beach, near a tiny white and pobiño: Isleta Moro him. They have a bunch of soft rock and psychedelic with that play, when they leave, in prisons. Inmates agradécenno truth. At night, while Pat and a couple of dear (speak of the Brotherhood, but the step is in sight) are the most cortijo sleeps spread by oasis under efímeros Cobertizo palm, or simply Canadian stores, like me, under the stars. Here the stars not Dodgeball: shine. January
still life into balls and swimming in a sea benign, Robinson Crusoe huts and people of the North: travelers lives transported in trucks and rounded with fireplace. Painted stones, clusters of dactyls (long days only food), outlaws and Hippo chickens, perfect for making Yemba to play around the fire, at night, make a constellation of intimate oasis.
The coast between Cabo de Gata almeriense e é a paradise Mojácar there vestments same; mais isto é mellor that is non Saiba.
0 comments:
Post a Comment