Noche Dia

Every stroke and every path we finish walking emit echoes of something different that remain engraved like snakes in the sand, silent yet leaving traces, traces that remain etched in cement, etched in memory stealthily to appear in the most unexpected moments: a tale, a heart, a brain, a raw material to create something new. which finally after some time will be abandoned, forgotten, buried beneath the new palaces that come and overthrow the old grounds that existed there before them and these in turn overthrow the others and forming waves and chaos, they become very difficult to fix.

Something else that is difficult is to find the pasts we want to compose. so much paint on the worn facade hinders and alters the soul's breathing, that sacred beast that changes forever and very rarely slumbers.

Nothing guarantees us that we will have what we have, nothing guarantees us a secure life, we also do not know if we will have thoughts that lead to an enlightened spirituality, nothing guarantees us peace. I think that we are not owners of what we have already achieved. nothing guarantees us that we will remain the same but we will always have the traces, those traces to remind us where and why we came this far.