Monday, October 1, 2012

Goodbye, Lullaby

Sometimes, I remember the things that have been forgotten. Sometimes, I remember what you have left. Sometimes, I cry to remember things I have forgotten. Sometimes, it could easily be considered to be something heavy. I might have forgotten, but not be forgotten. all into graffiti my history, and it will change me even a little.
I miss the things that have been lost. even miss the things that are still concrete.
I miss everything .... I want to keep them there ...
I even like all join, without any loopholes that could undermine this relationship.

And all will be lost.

Clouds and sky take my picture when my oldest uncle died, the day before the month of Ramadan arrives. He left us all, and also left a deep wound that we have never felt ...

The sky was so bright, the air is so clean, the universe seemed sincere to welcome his arrival at the heart of the earth. Me and the family should be able to learn from the universe, although weight carried.

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