lunes, 8 de octubre de 2012

Waiting for the fucking bus in the street of the tipical construction from galicia where people who lived during XX century and before used to save their food. Apart from this, there's a man crossing the road with a bag in his hand. Beside me , there's a man that looks like he is studing jourlanism or maybe Politics , as he has a look very alternative. A man looked at me surprised and got near and I thought he was going to steal my computer. Now another one has just looked to the screen of the buses and said joder , with a kind of frustration and exhasperation.
Now I have looked again at the man at my right. He doesn't look like a journalist or a politologo , he doesn't look like a student now. Why does he change his appearence so fast? It's my mind , there's no doubt , my mind is trying to keep entertained , and its getting it , because the last time I looked at the clock it was 33 , and now it's 43 and I have just seen the bus that I have to take. There are many people with bags and computers walking over the street. And we all look the same, a kind of calm , a little bit of hopes , we have the face of the waiters when we are waiting for the bus. The bus might be a metaphora with our life , it's been used millions of times but it's really true.
2 minutes left for the bus to come , what can I say ? during this 15 minutes I have thought more than I did during a month , I'm sure , and the only reason is that I had no movilphone ,no internet , no TV , no, no , nothing.
I just wanted to have a look at this place , and for 10 minutes I have done it , I'm happy with it.
Dejo en Real Heradanza de mis bienes a aquel que lea esto.