(Posted on Sunday July 26 in Sao Paulo - Brazil, published on Tuesday 28)
away Sunday, the last but all the same because the distance is relative. Far from where or from whom. Away from the familiarity of things, say, the management of addresses, from the comfort of my bed. Close to other strange relatives and not talk about people but the streets and smells and odors, which is not the same but with the burden of memories is just confusing. And the sounds than ever, as I will end with the sounds confusing. The chipazón language. And language. Static speed things up. Standard and expedited. The nuance that meets all the cold, which comes under the sleeves of their coats, for shoes, the fingers on the keyboard or hand opening the gate of the house of my grandmother and semi-frozen water that comes out of taps in the kitchen is a home away from home. And biscuits that I had forgotten it was my favorite out of habit, and sweet bread recipe invented.
away Sunday, the last but all the same because the distance is relative. Far from where or from whom. Away from the familiarity of things, say, the management of addresses, from the comfort of my bed. Close to other strange relatives and not talk about people but the streets and smells and odors, which is not the same but with the burden of memories is just confusing. And the sounds than ever, as I will end with the sounds confusing. The chipazón language. And language. Static speed things up. Standard and expedited. The nuance that meets all the cold, which comes under the sleeves of their coats, for shoes, the fingers on the keyboard or hand opening the gate of the house of my grandmother and semi-frozen water that comes out of taps in the kitchen is a home away from home. And biscuits that I had forgotten it was my favorite out of habit, and sweet bread recipe invented.
back in a few hours from where I was but again the same as it was. And that's good, I suppose, better than other things. We are already.
0 comments:
Post a Comment