Sometimes, the feelings inside yourself stop making noises and choose to move underground, like a fire on a hidden coal mine. That often makes you stare at the window in your PC's desktop, the cursor blinking, and it just does not work. The feelings are not driving you this time.
Yet, you can't stop the daily exercise, that weak commitment with yourself. So you insist on writing something. Any vague idea that crosses your mind and goes slow enough to be seen. The doubt that remains in a dark spot, the certain fact covered in thorns, the flat fact that reveals no emotion. One of those should be good enough to write something about.
And the cursor keeps blinking. Travelling back and forth without moving a single pixel.
I guess this anguish is worthy enough to be written down this way alongside all the sentimental stuff. The fact I just write stuff while being driven by feelings keeps me a long way from the people with real skills on this matter. Those who write what they want to, the way they want to.
septiembre 11, 2012
Suscribirse a:
Comentarios de la entrada (Atom)
Lo más fresco
Your illusion
Uno se sienta a recordar cosas de Brasil 2014 y, aunque ahora se ve lejano, sigue esa sensación de creer que lo que hicieron esos muchachos ...
-
El problema no es que lo hagas, el problema es el sentido... Mucho tiempo atrás, observando las cosas que me parecían inútiles, observé que ...
-
Cuando estábamos en clase con Andrés, él nos recordaba todo el tiempo lo importante que era caminar las montañas, recorrer los caminos, acam...
-
La gentrificación del campo. Las carreteras bien demarcadas y sin baches, una cosa impensada hace treinta años cuando se necesitaban para s...
No hay comentarios.:
Publicar un comentario