They say some that we live of souvenirs. Nor I know to certain who arrived to say a thing of these, but who am I I stop disagreeing with some thing or some intellectual? comes back and stocking we surprise in them at the souvenirs or them they appear so subtle that nor in we give account to them who we think about them. I remember of that certain time walked for the calado of the beach and sat down in one of the banks and glimpsed the landscape cut of the coast and the verdor of the sea infindo and tranquilo if espraiando to the confines that I did not know. The sun beat the bolt in a dry noon, without wind, new features. Solar protector nor was article of luxury, but question of necessity to protect the tired skin already of as many lived years.
Contrary years to the last ones: repletos of solitude, the homesickness of the marcantes people of the life of people. People who were the life of people. I until I had luck, although not to believe this type of thing (the luck), therefore, in my age, many met played in asylums, psychiatric hospitals, for aged, among others more. I never found myself, however, aged in the height of mine 65 years. I lived and living creature in way more intense than I can.
Clearly that today the disposal is not that one of long ago, nor the young patience of the so great age to aturar our small crazes or to hear our histories. I was not married, I did not have children and this also never I felt necessity. My friends say that when arrived at a certain age, the nature would complain and that it would come to charge me this. If it one day came, must have wrong of door or I listened to never it call.