There's an old voice in my head that's holding me back

Well tell her that I miss our little talks

Soon it will be over and buried with our past

We used to play outside when we were young

And full of life and full of love

Some days I don't know if I am wrong or right

Your mind is playing tricks on you, my dear

 

'Cause though the truth may vary

This ship will carry our bodies safe to shore
   
     

   
   

You're gone, gone, gone away

I watched you disappear

All that's left is the ghost of you

Now we're torn, torn, torn apart

There's nothing we can do

Just let me go, we'll meet again soon

Now wait, wait, wait for me

Please hang around

I'll see you when I fall asleep

 
 

  

 Hyperboles aside, there's always something (albeit minor) we can all do.

  

  

El viernes pasado Adriana Bolívar dijo que hay una crisis del diálogo y yo le creo. Si de cada cinco mensajes que mando recibo uno solo como respuesta, sin dudas hay un diálogo disfuncional. O un pronunciado desinterés. O simplemente boludeces de mi parte que no ameritan respuesta. Ah, qué bonito, merecer el silencio.

Y así es como nos damos manija.

  

Mantra 42

Take a chance,
because you never know how perfect can something turn out to be.