By: Camilo Arias
In this fucking city, I need a break, even being a student more of the bunch, it does not make a difference so it goes well or bad, a good day or a bad day is a matter of points of view, because sometimes life is crap, a sea in a glass where you drown without knowing how you fell in it, there are people who make your life a shit ... And then come with the excuse of social relationships, I no longer want social relationships, I like sexual relations more, I like the heat of a body more than mine is founded as two metals in fiery coals. In my loneliness I wait for your call but you never call, you tell me you talk to me, you want to talk, but I think about keeping quiet, everything calms down when I think about it, but each one gives what he receives, but one receives what he gives, nothing is simpler, everything falls on its own weight, I even in the dark I light a cigarette listening to some melody at the bottom of some corner of my room ... Still waiting for your call, time passed, and nothing, I see myself in the mirror of my dark room bathroom, I go out and answer the phone of the residence. Although I thought about plunging myself into my constant depression, my dark torment of tobacco and wiski, but I still know that my quarter of an hour passed by, the moment I think about my past. I know that a new phase of my life begins, this old bud is reborn and becomes a butterfly, I hear your voice in the headset and I think I hear a voice of pink, sweet tone, so sweet that I feel covered in chocolate with candy and strawberries. At the moment I speak with you, small drops of rain fall on the window that help me remember the same storm of thoughts in which I drowned night after night, I speak and think, where these times are going, my times Do they leave me? they leave here and disperse like dew on a winter morning, but where are they going?