END ..::Celebration::..

Once there was a way to get back homeward
Once there was a way to get back home
Sleep pretty darling do not cry
And I will sing a lullabye.

And in the middle of the celebration I break down. Yes. A celebration was held in a house of a friend of mine. None of them seemed to be in such a deep melancholy to burst in tears. There wasn't a single trace of sadness, though, it was still hanging there, we all were carrying it, we were bearing it , In the end, the love you take. . .

I felt weird, because it was like being there again. I got loaded with some hugs and music, no booze was needed to wake up with such a terrible hang-over. I doubted about my will on making a post about the party. Mostly because I don't know in which point of the night I became so aware I was falling in the distance. The distance from all I love to do, the people I want to be with, and mostly important, the people I want to make feel proud of me. It's like going backwards to think how the so called memories wounds us, but it's even worse to wear a face and to know nothing of yourself.

A veces me acuerdo que lo mejor que se nos pudo ocurrir en el Área 4, fué que alguien debe inventar algo para que todos nos vieramos en algún punto en nuestros sueños, y deliberadamente dejarnos llevar por lo que nuestras supra-conciencias nos dictaran. "Juguemos mañana futbol en los Campos Elíseos muchachos". Y así todos nos fuimos a soñar.

The dreams in which I'm dying Are the best I've ever had, creo yo, mientras no pueda compartir mis sueños con nadie mas.