The geography of my life I was alone, sitting on a bench in Central Plaza Golbew, gathering memories like the beads of a boy in a bag. My sandals worn
show marks a year road and in every one of them I can recognize the steps. Strange how memory is often kind to ourselves and attempt to erase the falls or the occasions on which the course of one form or another is lost. Come to the front instead as if they had to make lesson all those magical moments, these fantasies recreated in every inhabitant of the forest that was seen.
look back sometimes feeds our tiredness and makes legs feel heavier, to me this happens I do not, however, it seems that my strength has revived and, like a reflex, I begin to move again. It is a good time to keep walking, to continue the search for something I can not even define clearly, but that leads me to a warm fire horizon, with seas, mountains and new creatures that adorn the landscape so beautifully as they have done so far.
is time then that the bag is refilled and a new old story begins. ---------------------
If time would have helped me if I had helped the time ...
was assumed that as part of the celebration (so close, she), on the anniversary post would have appeared an invitation to visit my new blog. Wait, do not celebrate yet it does not close but I leave the place the traveler to keep his story without interruption or interference.
As much as there was a lonely post meets on the occasion of the Interior, the history of the walker itself, let there be written convulsed days in November (End of October, actually). From there to here, slipped a lot of unauthorized accounts that I liked writing and so I have created (or am in the process of) a new place to invite them soon.
Therefore, from this moment, protection ends when the reader and the traveler returns to owning all of space. Sincere thanks
company for one year to the usual ones, to those now on no longer.
Salu.
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