Tuesday, February 22, 2011

Message To Write In A Bachelorettes Card

My island of resistance as the speed burst. Let the sky

And it's always Friday, summer siesta,
festival in the village, garlands May
storms that shut off the TV. Mobile
burning, appointing me your voice, frown today
you today revolution

kings lost their crowns,
see you in the crowd, hugs burn dawn on the beaches of the south.
(-happens sometimes-)

------------------------------- -------------------------------------------------- ---------
The sun is hiding behind a tiny island in the Pacific Ocean and a couple embracing on a beach that has been unsuccessful. Another island of strength in these difficult days. In the arena have only been the ephemeral traces of tourists tonight responsible for removing sea. Is there anything more beautiful than a sunset? Does that wonderful moment the sun disappears from sight, the sky darkens and the ghosts come out of hiding to prove they exist?

The cabins of the eternal guardians of the sea are deserted and the old lighthouse lights natural light, the buildings come alive with dazzling lights and luxury cruise ships fleeing to safer places, wherever the noise of Bullets will not be heard and the front pages of the tabloids do not hurt much in sight.

also wish you could breathe the peace of the sea breeze on your face hitting the TV off, the warmth of the sheets. Venus appears on the horizon as red the sun looks down, perhaps in shame, perhaps tired.

I like to say that here the atmosphere is lively but not going to lie and did not invent the utopia that they sell the travel agencies on La Perla del Pacifico. Military car travel Golden Zone too often in stony silence, a carnival floats unannounced because someone has to pick up that head without body roll that was left at the gates of a famous restaurant Buenos Aires (0)
.

not lie because it is no use lying and while everyone defends war we stayed in the middle, watching the scene, hoping not to be cannon fodder of tomorrow while keeping a watchful guard the thin thread that holds our fragile hope.

Meanwhile I cling to anything and I feel that all is not lost, we're tired but not defeated, hurt and bruised but not defeated.
I cling to this dream evening and the couple continues to melt down there in an eternal embrace, I cling to that phrase "the world falls down and we fell in love "
(1)
, and hope again, quiet, coming through the window as a sea breeze. Cyberspace tell me what happens in the world, the beautiful butterfly effect also preserves the hope of millions of others, the thunderous voice of those who curse the living dictators, those who cry for justice, dignity or a glance tell them that all is not lost. He who is tired of asking for an out of the way, that the cries of dissent are heard loud and clear even if only written and in a different language. Night Falls on Mazatlan, the port lights, the magic comes, too cold, the lights come on and extend total distance to the edge of huge waterfront. For some reason the new modern waterfront reminds me of Miami, the old pier (or what's left of it) reminds me of the old Havana.
The sea is almost invisible in the dark hit the breakwater, the lighthouse flashed, hotels and houses seem torches blobs of light, all is peaceful here, down there perhaps the reality is different and a chance encounter in my ; hearing sounds that to: "Damn city, not your best and you're still beautiful. I must confess that I missed you"
(2) and go to be true.
the beach tomorrow will enlighten and hopefully just hopefully there across the world a "king" who loses his "crown" and that Libya
remember what freedom is.
Posted by admin at 7:24 PM

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