Places

" In the first place, it's bizarre to see the sea and do not hear any noise of the waves when arrives in the beach. There are not really Silence. However the sound of the birds, the voices of the people in white walking, without said anything important, they are not really sufficient to down the sea.... But, this morning the sea is quiet and keep in silence.

May be for my long hair or for my black wear today my presence in the base is notorious. It's not possible to be anonymous in a different world. In fact, inside, this is a different world. Extremely calm. The site to leave the fear and to reinforce the internal daemons to continue the war. 

I leave my internal daemons in the night and my battles are different. Other version of a war life, the subversion to perform the outside world. 

In the second place, the sun falls strongly. The old city is without a real interest. A deception. Just the correct place to find all the things to forgive. The images of the soul, the deep sentiments of the stories nothing living with me, but living with others. In secret. As I was the worst of the man, the bad lover, the Tyrian. 

It is difficult to find the correct words. It is not easy to write some idea. The guayaba juice was ok. And the coffee now may be is the only one think to remember today in happiness. The prostitutes arrive same in the morning, walking in face the church as during the nigh, in the front of the bar. The deal is simple, a quickly love time, by some dollars. This place always is a body market, a flesh traffic... an illusion of romantic history, in all the time, the history inside the walls is a consecutive line of sad facts. The hope is out of the walls, far, far away. Is in other past, In other dreams.

The misery of the others, in this second place, makes forgot the personal stories. Decisions was taken, sometimes (the most part of the times) by others. Optimistic reasons are not important, because the decisions of others are not in our control. 

Vendors and children arrive to perform the total landscape. No more silence, no more history. Only the awful truth of the humans designed in an ambiguous paint : the survive instinct and the ambition.  Masters and slaves."