The city is getting closer to one, with the good far that makes you feel that, in fact, it is a "city." Full of buildings, but no memory, and a green that gives us some respite. Caracas: contradiction, chaos, tropics, life. Caracas: my home.
Way, and the heart beats faster, breathing becomes deeper, the time you realize that you'll involving vegetation at that point does one turn off of the city below roars, whistles and screams. The smell of greenery and mountains fail to make me breathe really.
From one goes down pulled by gravity, leaving non-stop mouth, leaving a trail of desire to stay. Would roll down and grab the fastest, knees will not let me.
From Los Palos Grandes at sunset, the mountain is crowned by the Hotel Humboldt, there, with intermittent operation, enjoyed a party until dawn, much wine, and electronic music. Days of love.
Sand, I like to step into the arena, more and feel more pleasure to be at the beach, Raquel said to be the only place I absolutely silent. True, I am dumb like.
A tile and other birds stop in the morning in the tree that guards the building, I have not heard singing, but his mere presence makes me feel good, others sing away, cristofue, thrushes, parrots and guacharacas. Flying should be a great way of life, it costs nothing to fantasize.
In the early morning sun rises in the east, began to light up the mountain from there, and at dawn, after my alarm clock sounds for work, even with my amorcia dreams, I look out the window and I run into the mountain, waking up, full of animals that sound at that time. Achievement smile.
.