Buried under all the mute experiences, are those unseen ones that give our life its form, its color and its melody. Then, when we turn to these treasures, as archeologists of the soul, we discover how confusing they are. The object of contemplation refuses to stand still, the words bounce off the experience and in the end, pure contradictions stand on the paper. For a long time, I thought it was a defect, something to be overcome. Today I think it is different: that recognition of the confusion is the ideal path for understanding these intimate yet enigmatic experiences. That sounds strange, even bizarre, I know. But ever since I have seen this issue in this light, I have the feeling of being really awake and alive for the fist time...
(Pascal Mercier)
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It is literally impossible to be a woman. You are so beautiful, and so smart, and it kills me that you don´t think you´re good enough. Like,...
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letra Aunque no dice "Now we're looking out the window" sino "Now we're smiling out the window"....
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Esta crónica se la dedico a los que asistieron, a los que no pudieron, a los que pasaron, a los que lo ignoraron, a los que se olvidaron.......
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