This text is another chapter or excerpt from the book I'm starting to write ... This inspired cigarette is one of the pleasures that I enjoy ... But I've tried to relate to hope, melancholy and some other emotions of life, and that while smoking alone many questions and ideas you can come and reflect well or live a brief insight slowly by eating a cigarette ...
But well, ... not continue the bush and then give an immediate step in this text ...
I wanted to put out that cigarette, but smoke unconsciously ... thinking ... thinking ... watching ... not a drop fell from a height and tore heavily indulging in a pool ... why?, Why falls and kills without possibility of salvation? ... continued smoking puff after puff ... smoke ... smoke after question after question ... my body began to warm and a cold sweat and incipient beginning to hurt him, I wanted to get away from that cigarette, however it was part of my insistence ...
shapes are sketched its smoke, circles and curved lines looked over my hair and my fingers ... that urge to escape that cigarette, but something caught me and I could not help admiring to destroy it gently with moist lips, warm and eager to my mouth ... right had dark pleasure in the death, the feeling of being unwillingly killing ... but what my mind seeks to find in these puffs?, what do I need to find in that cigarette smoke confused and inert?, shattering observed drops in puddles, repeatedly pressed the rain against my window and I vaguely regretted that it was not high enough to open it and throw from there all what is not wanted.
Sweat was getting heavier and a mild tremor in my fingers shook the snuff suffocated and again went back and forth from my mouth into the pillow, back and forth, back and forth slowly, sadly came and went, came and coming ... watched, watched and thought ... and thought ... where I'm throwing my life?, what a deep sea, unreachable or to land under my feet and humiliating? ... Why, why, why not just suddenly all this and kill it unusable, kill my cigarette? ... Reflects what the snuff?, What do I have between my fingers and suck on my lips ... it's not a cigarette ... no no no it is not, ... is hope, it's that damn hope that leads me to endure this misery ... I thought torturing her enough to not survive, but here it is again and again leads me to open my eyes heavily a gray dawn breaks where furious rain against my window ... why my eyes overflowing with tears with this memory? ... Why my belly is empty feelings when I regret to hope -? ... Why do I have the bug on my back ?...¿ why I have cursed me hope? ... Could it be that I can get out of here, is that there is still strength to survive? ... What makes me confidence has sunk in the mud?, will be sorry or integrity? ... no no no no no I mourn, again not without reason, not nostalgia or melancholy ... not me ... do not cry for me ...
Little by little everything and running off the cigarette ... my fingers and my lips are cool burn every breath ... just my snuff and my hope goes out ... what do think about, why suffer, why mourn? ... nothing ... nothing ... nothing ... enough of all this mud accessory ... no I can put out this cigarette, but my mouth slowly consumed to extinction at some point be completely consumed And that was my hope ... turned into gray ash that dissipates in the wind of reason ...
Mmmm ... I love smoking, I love the puff of smoke across my mouth, throat, lungs, chest ... but this cigarette was off ... or My hope was to survive ... kill ... or ... should continue to rain or drops consumed ... continue shattering against the pool ... would smoke it ... or continue with my fear of living ... there would still this fear of living ... this fear that makes me insecure and awkward, humbles me and corners ... this fear, this fear that freezes my sweat ... this fear ... that makes me wonder and mourn without reason, that fills my eyes without a miserable reason ... but no ... no ... not consumed my cigarette I turned off my snuff ... and ironically continues to enjoy as I watch what they did not want to happen ... as I feel as fear takes hold of me and here it comes again to flood ... here it comes again to shake my fingers, but I keep killing me and I smoke and self-pitying, and there I go again to destroy the cigar slowly and again ... from my lips to the pillow ... my mouth when I vacuum ... and again ... smoking ... smoking and smoking ...
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