CCCXIX: Últimamente planeo una huída...

Exacto; es ese límite. Escucho la magia y la veo ajena. Ayer I've started thinkin' english, since I heard myself singin "Nothing's gonna change my world...". It felt so untruthful, anoyingly false. I choose to respect my polyglot crazyness & write down my thoughts in the same language they were conceived. Think I'm lettin' it go, no more inner world, the outsiders invading thoughts, manners, ways, moods... Everything's gonna change my world, 'cause my world lies on others. The freaking others, unmanageables. And I feel so afraid of watching inside, 'cause I know I'll find death again. My legs walking due to inert forces, not by choice. So just walk, keep walking, just doing it, impossible is nothing, & all those uncountable irrisory-branding campaigns, climbing positions in my belief's stairs. So what about my real beliefs? Eventhough I could be a bit more gray for the common eye, I'd be home. Ya no puedo ni sentarme a escribir, a sentir. Dejar, correr y dejar correr. Imponderables, pero lejos. Si me miro, extraño todo; lo que fuí y lo que seré. El campo visual de la nostalgia toma límites inimaginables hacia ambos horizontes, y sólo pienso en huír al sur para empezar de nuevo...