Sailor Moon Episodes 167-200

Far

suddenly appears before me in a photo. A photo that is not expected to find. You were always a person that has surprised me. It always gave you magically appear. Sometimes it was opening a door or look out a window, climb stairs or see you sitting in a bar at two in the morning. Although maybe you did not seem to, maybe I will was.

were many times that any sidewalk or in a park I ran into you. Give me a smile as the time your eyes focused on mine.

Abstracted and incomprehensible worlds flying was easy to surprise you. Worlds filled with new words and images unthinkable suddenly landed in the corner of your lips. Your kisses rain left me breathless for days. Until again I was on the verge of a strange horizon.

I told you in my dreams, my desires, of my desires. You were telling me about the moon while counting stars crashing on your balcony. I will repeat my plans to link the Pacific with the Atlantic sailing down the river a natural route called Amazon. You smiling at me without speaking, thinking it was still a child. Vos celestial painting clouds on the ground, and with colored chalk, you gave meaning to the cords, bumps and crosswalks.

This photo is rarely beautiful. 're Sitting on a bench pointing over my head. With your index finger and your eyes staring into infinity, you seem to me that over there is the future, or that in the sky shines a cosmos you only you can see. Your hair is moved to the evening breeze and the sun even more your achin blue eyes. In another mental picture, a gesture I remember the same but looking into my eyes, pointing your index finger to my lips to serve spoiled your kisses looks healthy, with no more intention to seal a moment or feeling.

Never liked the photos, that's not me, used to say.

polaroid In my mind you are always beautiful, fresh, always active, sometimes concentrated in an infinite point hidden in a shop window, or infinity a glass of wine.

always told you I did those trips, but I spoke of those who wanted to do. You talking to me instead of spices that season your dishes, the syrup of your desserts, and brand new sheets. Everything in the way you were always on alert. Always ready to explore new insights.

Then one day you went to another world, another dimension, another space that is not returned, leaving me in the pockets terronsitos sugar wrapped in tissue paper, a poem written in pencil, Photo folded into four, which unfolds as telling me to where I go, there is no other way You told me one day, can only go in one direction, toward the nearest future.

What Do Red And White Sores On Gums Mean

Allow the group to leave and wait another that comes with fewer people. Is not that?

The sweet butter milk out bumps and blisters in the mouth. Half a kilo of Mantecol not enough for a night of anxiety.

Lemon ice cream to go down.

Reaching late for work because the work I do not care, I prefer fat breakfast croissants with coffee currencies with weekly allowance.

Peru and Carlos Calvo, when the martini and fries, the brunette serving tables is a good mother's face.

someone behind the counter who takes off her clothes. Seconds later a cat sized tiger runs into the street.

Now it rains.

one hundred twenty-six The about me to Plaza de Mayo.

pigeons flying in circles over my head and within my head everything is silent. My head is an abandoned subway station. Just enter the necessary light to avoid tripping over old memories. But I can not be allergic to dust that deposited on the old-time images of wars lost.

Behind the cathedral there is another church once told me, and that continues. In the block of lights and tunnels do not lead anywhere.

dreams remain dreams of grandeur.

I never ate a hot dog on the street. I do not dare. What if I ended up liking?

Again the work was late and I can not think of any apology. Now I have to go home. But I do not know if I want.

Is it a long way back home?

I lost long ago. When the world was a different landscape. When a white gingerbread and chocolate was enough for a night of smoke and flour.

When being a rebel meant to be shoes. And be supportive was to be revolutionary.

Today to be rebellious, alternative and anti-authoritarian have to walk on skates for the platform of the subway.

This time the bus did not stop, I almost run over. Maybe I'll walk. Anyway, the blisters on my feet today and I was not cured with salt.

Someone wrote in the street "morning coat" no "toy" ...

Anytime it rains ... the newsboy on the corner listening to music ... I know by heart every note, wish you were here, I dedicated it so many times ...