It would be..

Publicado por Patricio Varsariah el lunes, febrero 29, 2016

It would be great if suddenly forgot what my name is, or as a way through the latticed winter mornings, forget the green summer fields, those glittering starry nights, the smell of coffee, mango freshly cut, the smell of the earth when the fields are freshly washed, the deep green of the leaves in bud.

It would be great to forget my dead, also living so have no attachments, no tears, laughter ... not be like the air without roots or foundations. It would be great to stand on the corners of any life and smell his day, knead your sorrows to make them fresh bread, comb my hair with rebellion, dipping my feet on the banks of a river, crowded with chattering stones, those that arise in nameless rivers. Walking barefoot through the land in planting, lie on the grass and be chinitas and ants feast torpor.

Would forget how perfect kiss, my touch and my face, forget that I exist, I've been both, that will exist much more. Dress with colored cloths of those that do so much damage, never with silk, never with skins. Wrap myself only with kisses when I'm in love and yellow tears when I have pain, I would forget the words, what I think and the eyes of those I love, would be perfect not know where I come from, be ethereal and subtle, so that may be in all, to be nothing.

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I do not know where in the world you will not even know if you exist. But I am excited to think that at some point someone will open your computer and come here to these letters. He read it and know that it is written for: Man or woman, young or old ... so what? I write these lines to someone who knows what it is to feel alone or lonely. These cards are for someone who needs a hug or afraid. A person who has seen some morning clear their mistakes and their consequences. Someone in the desire to be otherwise always stumble on the same stone, that surprises us because it is part of what we really are, even if not suspect. I write to discover who frequently excited / or with the heart spinning like a pinwheel wish but this hopeful recognize where the wind comes from.

Someone well understood that some days the world is very short and others imprisons his shadow, know also comprise heavy and leaden days when we are stuck, without direction or course and we need someone on our side grip the wheel. It is recognized in that effort rowing, paddling and rowing again until land appears on the horizon. These charts are for those who feel all that and more but do not dare leave the soul to hear those rhythms in samba.

You see, friend, stranger still, I was thinking how beautiful it would be that everyone else would have written a letter or a poem dedicated, inspired by it, created by its mere existence. And that all people sense that someone else would be remembered with affection, and not the most beautiful thing you have shown, but still having taught the monster that also house. The reason for these cards is you. You will not be one / or those who refer this following saying: "NOBODY IS MORE THAN ONE WHO ALONE HAS NEVER RECEIVED A LETTER"

My goal: to live is to live with all illusion, as high-flying balloon. Spotting the view from the top, appreciating the beauty beneath my feet, carefully observing everything my way, so no one hurt me. Just so I can feel free, like the moon loves the sea, and the air in your eyes, as the land under the sun. My dream is a world of feelings, the sorrows, laughing, crying, smiles, is the most certain way.