If you want the guitar sing, ringing I do not know what. If you want the dream to stay, is not it better to be a spectator? If life goes, if space is delayed if the weather is spilled, what matters is going to hold? If the unexpected ending to happen, what matters to me not getting it right. If the horizon is not the end, I'm dwarfing. If they are 300,000 kilometers, okay. But it may be too fast. Why all fled? Why all again? Who the hell we caught the illusion of permanence? If my mind is clearer with my reading glasses, will the future less fuzzy with my glasses off? No. There are all blind. Thank goodness that never comes. In five minutes it will be midnight. The music does not stop in the street. Dust cabinet remains oblivious to the weather forecasts. Not blind, but more myopic. And yet happy. I was tired of so clearly illusory. Limits upstarts. Underground car parks for dreams. The minutes are still filled with the music. And do not let the darkness to kill contours. They say that tomorrow is another day. If not I do not see it.
Juan Luis Blanco
12/2/2011
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