A dusk

Weather forecast: 13ºC Max, 1ºC Min, no wind, sunny without clouds,

Hi to everybody. I hope you will fine and right. In these moments, it is the dusk. Sun light is weak, with night wolves running for the sky. Blood is spread, with a pink color. The sign of the lost. Light goes out with shame, without looking at back. It knows he will be revived one moment.

First stars appear, with a pale shine. The black horse has come and the pink runs away. City lights come another time, with such a foolish sense of artificiality. Everything seems synthetic.

It is incredible that a simple car on your sight could do something like that. For an unknown reason, that image is linked with a memory. A memory of lost, a memory of shame. I guess I couldn´t see that model car again like I couldn´t see any more about Twilight films.

It is a bit curious, because I have never liked these books and these films. Did you know I have to go with her like an obligation? But, later, it turned into a sort of rite. Each year, we had to watch the new film with a silk and black bandage that used to hold our hands. It was a gesture of our love, a promise we had. "We will watch every film to the end".

Another broken promise like every promise. I don´t know but I think that getting older means understanding that nothing survives with the past of time, I think loneliness is inherited, promises are heavy lies that will be broken one day but, is this the life?

My worst defect is being a word man, I guess. Although now, I can´t say I will love somebody forever and ever because I know that dog barks more than bites.

Well, I am upset of being like that, like a little glass broken on the beach sand in winter.

One day, a person told me solitude is the greatest thing to understand, to know and to meet you. I don´t know but, if that is all I am, I think a bullet could be better.

Maybe the reason is so much time fighting against everything to have a degree and then, if you don´t see no light, no future, you may thing you wasted your entire life. I don´t know (another time). Maybe I am a worm that is waiting for being a butterfly.

One day, I have heard a Nat King Cole´s versioned song by David bowie:

"there was a boy, a very strange enchanted boy. They say he wandered very far, over land and sea. A little shy and sad of eyes"

I see me in these little words like a picture. Later, I have discovered that the same song was versioned for Moulin Rouge (a film that disliked me, though you know I dislike films in general).

Finally, the deeper obscure of the doom has painted my dear sky.