The music flowed which lost labyrinth between our ears, it was customary to hear that kind of music on a train to Manhattan, my long hours merged incredible tedium spoken silences my inner turmoil tearing. Puccini, fighting through the crowd at noon. Where we try to sleep, to get to where we expected. And there Puccini's Nessun Dorma stretching between the passages of each lane, giving ethereal in our hands, for which we would gently like a dream waking. The speed passed through the window leaving only catch fleeting seasons blur in my mind.
I wanted to see who brought the music, but never found. He was still on the first train and I needed two more to get to NJ, Hoboken Terminal. The mixed feelings and mating speed in me. The car was r Eplet of people and was imp ossible
learn that. I went down on 34 St to the Path is going to NJ, as he walked out looking to make the connection, I thought time and laxity in the history of Turandot, which This opera is Puccini. The proclamation of Princess Turandot that nobody sleeps until the name of the unknown prince, who launched the challenge that if your name is not found, the princess will marry him. Calaf sings explaining with certainty that the search is in vain. He came to my mind a dilemma over speed and laxity, not dialectically rather as a temporary dilemma dealing with the circumstances. The impossibility of forgetting at the memory. The need for certainty in the future for each of us, whether tomorrow or in a month or years.
Getting off the second train coming to NJ, came to my mind a poet v ivió part of his life in New York. He felt the music in his poetry and made it vibrate differently in his verses. Poet in New York and Poema del cante Jondo of Federico García
The rca, two such different books composed by the same hand. Forcing my mind, watching the sea Hoboken dock to remember, scrutinizing each of his poems lost my neurons in my memory. Two poems came to my mind the poem about the death in "three cities" and the city and death in "Streets and dreams." Two different perspectives of life written at different times. Felt the air hit my face hard as if to tear it and throw it into the sea. The rain completely covered, as are all relentless fall. In my anxiety generated in retrospect, that memory is left floating and only revised it in the rain, through music or by the sea. It was impossible to get away from my thoughts against these three elements.
Nobody sleeps in the dream, though it seems contradictory is what we all want to feel the lapse of time as it is coming within us and intoxicates us, leads us to hover over our desires and perpetuities. Therefore, that speed was needed to accelerate my anxieties and a bit laxar
the oblivion. Dry air kisses you and feel your lips swell with his approach, could edes close your eyes and imagine any sleep and produce it in a minute. Finally, the third train arrived, I was exhausted and smiled, feeling pleased to have beaten to oblivion. And I could figure something strange in my mind, the desire to see an old movie from the heat of an oven, covered with blankets looking at the window. Cutting these movies romantic comedy which I'm not adept, but sometimes I hide 'em. Nessun Dorma With and recall the nostalgia came The Mirror Have Two Faces really a very old film with a final spectacular, well worth the movies in that court, the few acceptable in my book. The woman looked at me side all the way, my smile was possibly evoking the surprise of seeing it again sitting in the wind with the warmth of someone special.
I wanted to see who brought the music, but never found. He was still on the first train and I needed two more to get to NJ, Hoboken Terminal. The mixed feelings and mating speed in me. The car was r Eplet of people and was imp ossible
learn that. I went down on 34 St to the Path is going to NJ, as he walked out looking to make the connection, I thought time and laxity in the history of Turandot, which This opera is Puccini. The proclamation of Princess Turandot that nobody sleeps until the name of the unknown prince, who launched the challenge that if your name is not found, the princess will marry him. Calaf sings explaining with certainty that the search is in vain. He came to my mind a dilemma over speed and laxity, not dialectically rather as a temporary dilemma dealing with the circumstances. The impossibility of forgetting at the memory. The need for certainty in the future for each of us, whether tomorrow or in a month or years. Getting off the second train coming to NJ, came to my mind a poet v ivió part of his life in New York. He felt the music in his poetry and made it vibrate differently in his verses. Poet in New York and Poema del cante Jondo of Federico García
The rca, two such different books composed by the same hand. Forcing my mind, watching the sea Hoboken dock to remember, scrutinizing each of his poems lost my neurons in my memory. Two poems came to my mind the poem about the death in "three cities" and the city and death in "Streets and dreams." Two different perspectives of life written at different times. Felt the air hit my face hard as if to tear it and throw it into the sea. The rain completely covered, as are all relentless fall. In my anxiety generated in retrospect, that memory is left floating and only revised it in the rain, through music or by the sea. It was impossible to get away from my thoughts against these three elements. Nobody sleeps in the dream, though it seems contradictory is what we all want to feel the lapse of time as it is coming within us and intoxicates us, leads us to hover over our desires and perpetuities. Therefore, that speed was needed to accelerate my anxieties and a bit laxar
the oblivion. Dry air kisses you and feel your lips swell with his approach, could edes close your eyes and imagine any sleep and produce it in a minute. Finally, the third train arrived, I was exhausted and smiled, feeling pleased to have beaten to oblivion. And I could figure something strange in my mind, the desire to see an old movie from the heat of an oven, covered with blankets looking at the window. Cutting these movies romantic comedy which I'm not adept, but sometimes I hide 'em. Nessun Dorma With and recall the nostalgia came The Mirror Have Two Faces really a very old film with a final spectacular, well worth the movies in that court, the few acceptable in my book. The woman looked at me side all the way, my smile was possibly evoking the surprise of seeing it again sitting in the wind with the warmth of someone special. 
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