Dentro de la bola de nieve del escritorio de mi padre había un pingüino con una bufanda a rayas rojas y blancas. Cuando yo era pequeña, mi padre cogía la bola de nieve, dejaba que se amontonara en la parte superior y le daba rápidamente la vuelta. Los dos contemplábamos como caía la nieve alrededor del pingüino. El pingüino estaba solo allí dentro, y eso me preocupaba. Cuando se lo comenté a mi padre, dijo: "No te preocupes, tiene una vida agradable. Está atrapado en un mundo perfecto".
lunes, 14 de mayo de 2012
Alone.
You're so different now, but you seem to be happy although most of time you are not. Every step you take just seems to leave you far away from the other side, from the past. It's easy to say or to see how you can just look away and find some reasons to keep on with your own life. But at the same time is quite hard to see that you and your friends are not the same anymore.
Then, you realise how simple is to people just going their way, nothing else matters for them. You're just a spot in the middle of nowhere, in the middle of the world. But wait, 'cause then is when you want to change, not because of you, just because of them; to feel more comfortable with yourself, but also because you know if it doesn't change you'll be ALONE whatever.
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