storms
I’ve written less than I want…attending so many compromises in daily living…it seems I’m writing only at weekends…at the space and time when real solitude is some of the conditions for writing…I guess that the writer is not a professional of solitude, but in solitude i write…wandering writings…past week two strong spring storms showed me once more the forces of nature…fortunately my house keep safe…storms with loud thunders and flashlights at sky…so strong rainny water dropping from heaven…a sense of a tiny blend of the tears drops falling from my eyes…the one love I feel and can not write more than a few words: love is a feeling, and is a labor…and there’s exist some tough labor in loving…some task to support the absence…the solitude…the real and the paradox of the presence of love…one love…more than words…a feeling