Dear diary,
I close the chapter of this year with the following balance:
One dead and two wounded. Actually there were more deaths, but only one cried inconsolably, so that others may die again if they want. One of the wounded was a dear friend who is not recovered yet (it sometimes seems to regain consciousness and others, most, remains in that state of unconsciousness in which it is easy to get when you do not want to accept that the expert said "it was lost absolute and total ") The other wound was me, but fortunately now (and do not say no wonder) I recover, even with a certain stoicism, of wounds. However, it must be because a slight trace of masochism is in me, apparently a trait inherited from the Fourth Republic, or a gene Jewish-Christian, sometimes I get to give me salt and vinegar on the wounds. So, this afternoon it seems to Sunday, I started listening to songs and I got this I hear about 3 times today. Something good out of these things because the truth that guitar is really nice beginning and the woman who sings has a lovely voice. Well, I started to remove costritas and throw myself into my wounds that sad song that who knows what foolish "truths" told in the middle, but I, along with others who did understand, I sounded more sad that light of the city of Carora, if that can be called Carora city
Hearing her I understood why there are people who want to cut your veins, get to gospel or nebulized with creosote when the expert says "total loss" That's an option. The other is saved, pick up the pieces and start anew, replacing this "I can not live without you" by an "I can not live without me" something that does not sound "romantic" but that is the real truth. Start again. Start again.
This is my miracle # 2.
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