Today I saw the program of three generations who pass through channel 06 and dealt with "travel."
Listening to the panelists talk about their experiences, I was thinking as I do when I travel with lots of dreams, and I have scheduled ahead of time will know, as expended, when I give you a moment of rest for air, etc, all this coldly calculated, to the memories for family rather than in mine.
Once you arrive and my soul is touched with the previously selected magical moment, my fills a feeling of joy, pleasure and wonder, is the time and I, nothing more, everything is on your side, if it fulfills my expectations and on flight passes, and I will not go down, but if not met, the disappointment lights up my face, this was accompanied with a few minutes of talking to herself saying about going to beautiful and an occasional eye wetback when it is intense.
The problem is when I return to Lima, when asked at home how did it go? What conocistes? Did you go to this place?, I can hardly remember the name of the place, its significance, history, etc ... ... .... I remember are images and feelings that accompanied them, ... so in an attempt to explain, I begin to describe what I felt, rejoicing in it, reliving the magic and impatiently interrupted me but how is it called? What else? Did you go to this place?, Or worse with a cold silence see the photos and then deliver them when they leave without comment, to all choose to keep quiet and have little desire to share. Fortunately
outside is different, one sees another friend with me, and I can convey something that flooded me, but I still left with the feeling of waiting I need to express .... I think there comes to carve my writing or viewing single recreating and expressing my feelings.
The next time you trip me repeat myself internally, in that glorious moment, "and this is called xxxxxx" not to forget, and when at home want to know how I was? will not let me interrupt, or intend to change my style, after all I am the protagonist.
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