The holidays can be filled days full of things and nothing ... It's hard to explain, after hours time goes fast in a slow and harmonious antagony. It's different to have days off in Bogota, the city that roars with others who are in their jobs, busy, in motion and then a full well of occupations laps to go. Checklists appear to have the uncanny ability to replicate themselves with startling ease and the days are passing over each other while one is still not enough to digest what happened last month.
This has been ...
I have not written about movies I've seen, I have not written about how the sun rises in a new way, or what makes me angry, and I am surprised ... the words in my head have been inhabited only for me at times I feel sad, sometimes just do not think that because there are times when life demands you spend all this time, breathing, living and not easy to find the time, or do not want to sit and write. Meanwhile
prepare suitcases, disarmed others, reviewed photos of the last trip of a mere few days ago when it was necessary to walk ten hours path through trails and through tunnels. (There is a road in Colombia, which communicates with Guateque Villanueva, who is full of tunnels and each has a name: the flying, hell ... it reads in small white ads before you dive in the dark, damp depths of numerous mountains.)
The suitcases are opened and closed. Au are many holidays.
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