[Páginas arrancadas]

By R

Lucía quiere una familia numerosa, varios hijos, vacaciones en un lugar del caribe que me olvidé, vivir en un pueblo tranquilo, en una casa con muchos árboles, pero cerca de una gran ciudad, para llegar rápido en auto al trabajo, quiere que envejezcamos juntos, en un amor indestructible, en una familia perfecta, quiere morir tranquila tomada de mi mano sonriendo.

Siento que nada me sostiene. Ninguna idea buena.

¿Qué podría decirle yo a un hijo, qué verdad?

2 comments so far.

Anónimo 1 de septiembre de 2009 a las 9:35

You think it's the place or your lover or your thoughts or your own limits.. but it's not. It's not the city, it's not the environment, it's not the place you live, it's not your apartment, it's not the work you do, it's not any of your lovers, it's not your family, it's not the language, it's not the gender, it's not the sexual preference, it's not your sexual skill, it's not the health, it's not the friendship, it's not the experience, it's not your expectations, it's not your ambition, it's not whatever you dream, it's not your failures, it's not the fame, it's not the beauty, it's not the social status, it's not the place in history, it's not the places you have seen, it's not your teacher in high school, it's not the religion, it's not the abuser, it's not the law, it's not the nationality, it's not the weather, it's not the children, it's not the house holding, it's not the work 24/7, it's not the advertising, it's not the things you want to buy, it's not the color of your skin, it's not your favorite boxer, it's not your toys in childhood, it's not your favorite hidden secret place, it's not your mental illnesses, it's not your fears. It's not.
Unknown 10 de septiembre de 2010 a las 16:58

Que comes sandía con vino, te moris.
Que si miras con muy mala leche la mayonesa, se corta.
Que si haces muchos gestos con la cara te da calambre y te quedas así para siempre.
Todo hay que anotarte ramirito?

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