domingo, outubro 30, 2016

# London, 8:39


Every day is one day. Think of specific objectives, with scheduling activities, is pure speculation that, in general, for statistics events, it may unfold; essentially covered by inconsistent terms to match, they change all planned and intentions of action projects. The accessory ceases to have any relevance in the concrete; the time comes to an end. The timer stops, the dry hourglass and the cuckoo loses the corner.

The way of life of each of us begins to be drawn, even in the act of being designed. It is a promising future devised based on stereotyped patterns and high social recognition; We are integrated into a religion, and we are assigned a reference by the conjunction of a series of characters, through which we have to be identified and socially acclaimed.

However, no one is equated if that is the path we want to follow one day later, no one! They give that for granted, absolute certainty.

The singing of the alarm in wake delighted - not necessarily charming - marks the beginning of another day of rest, whose terms we want to be a reunion of joy with those who most desire. And the line that goal will always be the most desirable, but not always achieved.

A day of life is a huge story written pages each step in a complex daily experiences, memories and sensations. A chapter that we want to be at the beginning of the story, one that marks us, guides us, enlightens us.

Sometimes, so many times, this story is hit by stones shuffling the way; other times by sudden chasms that make the ground flee underfoot. Sometimes the story suffers strange changes, not conditioning the plot, the change in another brand that inevitably each chapter of each life, so often, or almost always, enigmatic, not certainties, but with many doubts.

Foto: Ben Brooksbank

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