Storygraph

DELIRIOS DE UNA MENTE SANA;

"I want to sail my soul in so many ways that it will brake into particles and spread all over hitting people inadvertently making them stop for a millisecond forming an awkward instant in their lives. That instant where you don't know what just happened but didn't stop you for doing what you were doing. And probably i did already (more probably to myself because it happened) and you didn't notice...dahhh ( or for people that say "obviously")
The un-dahh or the opposition to the obvious is generated by those little moment in life where we can't acknowledge what is happeing, and we adjudge it now to the particles of a soul broke into pieces sailing away (after all we are all matter)"

 

Storygraph

 

 I have a hole that fills my darkness, is a small window but is there. Sometimes, mostly when i wake up the window is closed and i feel trapped like in a solitary cell, the air runs out in every breathing, shrinking the room even more making the walls getting closer and closer until the point i can not move. I stamp my hands over the rugged bricks trying to push them away, my nails are rakes scratching and my nostrils are steaming (did i mention i am claustrophobic?) and everything goes blurry in a blink of an eye and when i thought i could not think, when i thought that was my last breath and i thought i was not going to say another "and" ("and" maybe that was for the best) i see the window. It is miles away, it is still small, but i see it and that was enough at the moment (like enough is a word i commonly use) even though it felt like it was in another room the light heated my skin, a gust came in and went straight to my mouth. I swear (and i never swear, but never say never they say (who are they anyway) and i hear) it was like i had a thousand mints, my Edward-sissorhands became feathers, the bricks were velvety and my eyes only could see that hole that was a whole, a small window that fills my darkness.

Inside the fort of Golden Gate bridge, San Francisco, U.S.