Árbol seco, café y deshojado. 

¿Qué es real?


Podría inventar mas de mil epitafios para la muerte de nuestro corazón persistente. Si quieres, podemos enterrarlos juntos, quizás así algún día aprendan a estar y a quedar; como lo plasmado de un mero recuerdo jocoso lleno de una noción cálida, o el llano de nuestro seto que ocupa el centro de nuestra antitética forma de percibir el cariño que se aleja.


Obviamos, rehuimos, soslayamos, eludimos, escaqueamos, toreamos
Lloramos, gimoteamos, suspiramos, sollozamos, gemimos, plañimos
Escapamos, abandonamos, ahuyentamos, escabullimos, fugamos, huimos

Siempre huimos, cariño mío. Yo, tú, él, ellos, aquellos. Siempre huimos. 

Los epitafios se extienden a lo perenne.

Hello there,

I’m quite sure that there’s no pain in your world, that now, everything is free and beautiful and peaceful. I’m sure that you are able to spend all your time with everyone you ever loved and everyone who ever loved you. 

You probably already know, how many people are missing you and how much work will cost us (the ones still living in the Earth dimension) to stop feeling sadness for your absence, but you also know that is temporary, that we’ll find you in the wind: whenever we get so closed minded and we need to take a breathe; in the moon: whenever we need to look through darkness, you’ll light the moon to watch our path; in creativity: you’ll be the thousands of reasons why people will start creating more often; in strength: you are the motivation of why people should stand for themselves and fight the imposible; you are here, and there, and there; you are everywhere, you are in life, in a smile, in a sense of truthful spirituality.

For this, I want to ask you one last thing… Since you left, I’ve been having so much trouble sleeping, I can’t stop thinking in your physical absence, I can’t still believe you are not here. Please, send me a sign that you are ok. I miss you, my dear friend, I really do.

Sincerely,

Manis

(Abbi, April 7 1991- December 24 2012)