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Wednesday, 27 January 2016
BRIDGE TO THE EAST
There are mornings when barely see the bridge. Days when the gray mist consumes the space between me and what my eyes can not reach. I think these days there to teach us to see what lives here the fog around us. And I do it, I look what touches me today differently but always with the same sense. It surprises me the green dripping clenched pine trees that surround the tar already worn by the feet of those who walk by walking. A blue man running theSAU's and I feel that spending and contempt.
The nature of the world differs little from the nature of life. Enjoy these fresh and stagnant air you breathe me whenever lower his head to notice the brown dead leaves that myself espezinho unintentionally.
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