seems that everything returns to normal. It seems that things tend to be like they used to. As they deserve. As best they are. Balanced.
ideas now that you have accumulated inside the mind for months, as if furry little balls in a box they were, now they play rowdy because they have no place in his head, began to parade before him stories and arguments.
were always there, but for a time to see them leave with a look storytelling . Perhaps out of pragmatism. Most likely out of laziness. But he is infected. Long ago caught the bug to narrate, to tell things as he sees and, even take breaks, always returns.
already left once and returned in another. No doubt he will leave, since this can not help feeling like a sea attracted and repelled by a playful and whimsical moon. But now I do not think so in the future and prefer to focus more on what is happening in what will happen. Perhaps it is because what is happening now becomes tense as soon as you read. Probably do not want her wandering thoughts, ideas and occurrences pilgrims are firefighter lost in the furrows of his memory.
not know the reason and I do not care. Just know that wants to tell.
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