called America's heart, but could not be. There was no place in the highest heart-skinned Aztec. It would be the time, for everything in Life is a moment and moments that are worth a lifetime.
will have to wait for empty glasses, squeezed lemons, Garibaldi e Insurgentes, make good mariachi and accompany the gentleman shot of horses, tattoos of skulls from the Zocalo and know that La Virgen de Guadalupe will protect us.
change direction, change of plans and open to curiosity. Direct flight to the heart of the beautiful lady who was abducted by the bull.
skinned the bull, bullfighting lustful formed in our continent. The same bull that was left to kill in the maze and barely resisted, as Borges said, to give glory to the man who inhabits Europe.
The bull and its symbol. The bull semen and fertile and foundation from Crete to Lisbon. The bull that is no grass and no freedom to some autonomous region of the country where I live, by ignorance and cultural terrorism independence of certain liberal fascist attitudes. And they think they possess the truth and freedom of other people.
But back to the heart of the lady taurómaca, there we discover Munich. City
cheerful, elegant, contemporary and neoclassical. City remorseful, devastated, with dry eyes from time spent crying. Franco-Prussian glory, global disaster ... Perhaps that is why its people are so friendly and welcoming.
are known to live, you know drinking is known to enjoy family, friends, beer, maybe to forget ... Here was born the pain left by twice the heart of taurine girlfriend Europe. Land
And remember Friedrich Bavaria, Wagner, Ludwig II, of Fuseli and William Black, Tanhauser and Tristan and Isolde and "Monk oceanfront" and "Crosses on the hill" and " Huter's Tomb "and" Boat called Hope "that wrecked so many times our minds and our souls on the journey of life.
And then we close our eyes and wake up in a world where he is living the romance, embodied in men and works mentioned above. In a place where time does not exist, where winter is winter and summer, summer. In a place with enough cliffs, lakes and enough with enough snow to take our lives for love if applicable, as you and I would. Call me romantic.
This site was visited by my two hundred bones, perched in the Alps. Called Neuschwenstein and its castle is one of the seven new wonders of the world. A place to think of you, a painting by Friedrich, imagined by Disney and the setting for all the mythology Wagnerian opera.
With the cold wind, we move from romanticism to impressionism, futurism and the industrial revolution in our train ride to the right ventricle of old Europe.
The man and modern life.
woke up in Prague. I think even turned up one morning to find you in your bed in insect repellent (such as Kafka taught us), it is worth if it is in Prague.
Kafka, Gollem, Wenceslao, Moldova, Carlos and his bridge, the Holy Child, Pilsner Urlquell, night, light, cold, cold, cold, Secession, Mucha, Chopin, Modernism, Olbrich, imperial glory, Russian submission, no streetlights streetlights, paving and Gothic, astronomical clocks, each street a photo , each photo a sigh, every breath a memorial to the souls who loved or you love and are not seeing what you do.
Vertigo is the perception of beauty, Stendhal syndrome, cold streets, bedrooms hot, love, sex and men greatly unbearably heavy or light, so the city felt Kundera.
And it all ends, we returned to Madrid to see family, friends, to remember them on their anniversary and haunting back the love that has not forgotten us and try to forget that we do not forget. And in Madrid
heat. The heat was looking handsome raptor bull through the heart of his beloved Europe, which only occurs in the lower left ventricle in our country. Hence, dwell among us; leaving other parts of the frozen heart of Europe. Only living flame that gives warmth in Spain, the flame of love for lovers found and recognized.
Each afternoon at five o'clock, again makes clear his sacrifice (as Jesus Christ in the churches of the world to remind us of the origins of Christianity) in the form of a bull facing in beautiful bush men who dream of being Theseus and we remember what we are, where we come from, in a cultural event, beautiful, true life and death. Since there is no truth, only death. A show embraced by the cream of all the great intellectuals.
But not now, in my country is progressing, forgetting the source. Derail, we balkanized by ignorance independence of four men children of a bull and a lady who was swimming in the sea, a quiet spring afternoon. Perhaps because here
Toro inhabits, so cold in Europe. In our hands they get frozen whole heart of taurine girlfriend.
José Luis Vázquez
August 6, 2010.
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