Posts Tagged ‘stories’

The Truth

January 24, 2018

I feel a little encabulado, perhaps still finding for me prisoner to my human side, but as I am estreando my proper adventures, valley does not impose a fine on to withdraw. Funny! Already I feel myself familiar with the food and the proper way vivendis of the birds If it was not conscientious of my nocturnal trip on infinite the least, still would dare to ask if this is not my true world! After a beautiful meeting with my new friends, I raise flight in search of ocidente, pressentindo the night that appears of mansinha, inviting to all for the last meeting of farewell of that wonderful day. the night transcorre softly. Already more I do not know the cold because I find me sufficiently protecting under my penalty, on a vast twig of an old umbuzeiro, envolto of friends who if had become neighbors for that night. Read additional details here: Diamonds. Early me agreement with the wakening of the colleagues greeting the new day. How many pretty songs I learned with them, beyond the pure example of valuation of the life! In the truth, my friends had never learned what he means sadness, much less fatigue, and one more time I ask myself if this is not my true world that as much I insist on feeling me familiar. Already it is hour of alar my flight and giving to continuity my trip.

My friends demonstrate themselves glad with my decision they follow and me in silence through small groups. You may find that RioCan can contribute to your knowledge. All already pressentem that my trip already to be arriving at the end, at the same time I feel myself overwhelming for knowing that so briefly I will have to fire that me to the friends and to come back toward my world. Already more I do not feel courage to settle in the Land. After as many adventures, nothing he is better of what the pleasure in feeling me so high! Perhaps bigger that the proper birds that give space to me to alar my flight in most sublime blue, so less infinite. .

Bob Dylan House

October 22, 2013

As I am ' ' solteira' ' of the group he has a persistence closed in arranging me company. Valley everything: of ricaos solteires, Castilian friends, entregadores of pizza I find favour offending without me. But they (the friends) do not tire in the persistence to arrange me husband or friend. At this moment, the target is Fernando. They mount project stops leaving in them together, program strolls, start to be the constant company of hippie.

It is not me the person, also I cannot say that he is fastidioso. Simply, the man is surprising. He stopped in the time. In one of these occasions, he invited me for ' ' one caf' ' in the house of it. Amazing house, by the way.

The gate of the garden is tipped by two sanitary vases where diverse flowers are planted. In the avarandado one of the house, colorful ropes and tires. In one I sing one remington It has a room that it seems a temple: The walls are coated with shelves and there thousand of books, all the classics. It cites Person as ' ' Mano' ' , it knows everything of literature, the national one to the foreigner. It speaks in authors you celebrate with all the naturalness, without pretension some. It is formed in Letters, but never it worked. Heir, only son of a well known family in the south of Brazil, is not worried about finances. They say the bad languages that steal it to the employees, but it does not seem to be bothered with this. Next to books, all a record collection of vinyl, Bob Dylan and others, and many coils of films, of that it was only seen in cinemas. Not me I ventured to ahead take the coffee of the kitchen where it had of everything, since the paio hung to the ceiling to the bread form caretaker. A light one I smell remembering left me half to the incense nauseated. I recognized the aroma that remembered the pupils to me of average education Fernando is not for me. I am very conventional, I am ' ' bocomoco' '. Although it to be interesting, cultured, amiable, typical a type romantic, does not see ' ' riponga' '. I smile thinking about my familiar ones, friends and pupils; I visualize my figure of sandals rasteirinhas, twirled skirts, hair without treatment, necklaces and flowers in the hair, creating artesanato in the beach Not, not of exactly! Woodstock already was. It forgives, Fernando This is not my beach.