May 24, 2005
Pencil tired
remember those autumn evenings when I sat under the poplar tree in my garden. In my hands, a new pencil and a notebook in which my feelings and emotions were flying on free and leaves, like the sparrows which he could see while I was there. Day after day, he found a refuge in this place where I could isolate myself from everything and without fear that anyone found me.
But it was not so, for dear new pencil was belittling to reach to grab it with some difficulty. The tip was broken, every time I tried writing my disappointments ... But I gave up and bought another, but it was a pencil. It was quite strange, because mine is not painted, it did not go out words or phrases, which, the paper could not hear them. I put the pencil next to the worn pencil in the box and they forgot me, because ... If you do not trust your imagination, feelings and emotions ... How an old man want express pencil know?
My imagination came into dispute with these two individuals, hence of months ago, do not get my own tree or fruit, or flowers ...
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the end of the day, was clear that the first would answer me, but the 2 nd ... Shook the pillow Overall, it is better to dialogue than you. Although inadvertently, automatically, this morning I looked at opening the eyes mobile. I do not want to continue waiting unintentionally. Dear
future
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