When you stop, only an ATTEMPT.
feel reconnecting with the earth. Nosatraviesa energy up the spine, we are a channel, a shaft, a root.
is the same and not the same all the time. Losniveles vary in depth, there are many more colors, smells, textures, sensations.
life feels like something is continuamenterehaciendo delicate balance, sinuously. We are getting old
battles: the egos in the theater worldfor, looking all compete for the same role, for the same personajeprotagónico interpreted as different modes. All pronombrespersonales mathematically moving on a chessboard.
really are not one, or infinity, these are just queconceptos paradoxical and elusive. We can only access them by using rhetoric elvaivén of polarities. Living the life, death kill.
Stones do not have faces. An eye is an eye. Evoluciónhacia inside. Impossible old questions. The space is pure silence, mastodo screams.
would need to know to find the source at a time. Why quéescapamos a Dream another dream?
Why, when the time change back adarle rope? No where to go for shelter. We are exposed, we UNSENT total.
Revisit the positions of your "every day", all these gestosdetrás from which you hide and express how TUSER continually changing.
eyes are not what is outside but what's inside, losojos headlamps that illuminate a world that open a path.
When you look at someone, look deeper, there as black, to see if you find the spark that indicates whether you are awake.
Nothing to write, nothing to find, nothing to decode.
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