Last Night of the First Month

"Last night of the first month. The moon is yellow in a cloudy sky of a hot Wednesday inside times of disturbed minds and hearts in explosion.  Emotions: hatreds, loves and passions. People want an exit for the day at day thinks in a week. An desperate situation to believe in something, same if it is the erroneous creed. A miracle is better that a consequence or an human surprise. The results of conversations (in any case same people talk but not listen the others) are a frustrating pause without any conclusion and more with the dreams are a collection of disappointments in a deep place inside the brain, where the intimacy is only a shadow recognized by oneself. For the others is an unknown possibility.  Sometimes a story to forget in the next morning to speak (without listen) one more time.

On other Wednesdays, the moon did not matter because the firmament is important when there are something to reach in the time and in the space, but in these nights, just the eyes or the skin are the space necessary to forget the notion of time, the anguish of tomorrow. Thursday is important because the time, the moon of the end of the years and all decisions are scary. Disturbed minds must endure another month, in the career of very few people to have a relevance for life. Intimal but trascendental life. 

The exit. A possibility is to follow the mainstream and trending, reasons to easily given the promises that people want to hear.  However, the exit is just an illusion of freedom, but for some tales an only ending is possible, the difference is to find the role in this night, because tomorrow the way is a collection of the questions without a good answer. Little phrases with a good argument but with the sufficient words to create an idea. The idea enough to throw away all the love songs while lovers do not need to justify their sex. Lovers but not in love. 

At last, the cold wind of the other month goes through the curtains to refresh the idea of a happy end in this tale. But in reality,  it is not a question of end, but the beginning of a process. The exit is an entrance in a world where the moon and the clouds are part of the escenario: same for the skin and lips, same for the fear and passions.  It is possible to be with the only belief of the own life and hatreds but understanding the bright of the eyes in the others. In silence, no necessary in a talk with arguments or simple replicas.

The moon arrives to the morning in yellow. It is not a question of a miracle, but the possibility to flinch in the first morning of the second month. Same about the being conscious of the pass of the time more than the everydayness. The opportunity to be unpredictable in a regular day with formal rules. Always mistakenly thinking of  a non-existent exit. Thursday is not to anguish however the hatreds and the intimacy. The life in the firmament must be interessant when the position is known as important. Written until the first day of the last month."