Blue Sky

"It's possible to write a song with August, whit a love times and party nights, sunsets in fire after walking days without wind, sometimes a little breeze. The last day of the month in other parts of the world is the ceremonial time of the sumer's end. But here, August is one other sequence of thirty-one days in the eternal summer of this side of the planet, with magical sunsets among labor days, without time to receive anything more than the journal orders. 

Sunday to end the summer time of the north-world. Silence and blue sky. Some clouds without forms and some words. A morning without coffee and without seconds to mesure and the opportunity to think on nothing. The moment to live the bizarre human condition of live without expect something for tomorrow, today. 

This is the possibility to have days like the others. Equal. Without the necessity to prepare the autumn and after the winter. Day at day.Without coffee in the morning and without events to remember of the last night. A night only to sleep. No dreams and longings to have in the head,  because the clouds in the blue sky are sufficient. "