All children, absolutely all night fear the monster under the bed there. Never know where it comes from or when he got there, but they do know is that every night he expected them under his bed.
I
unlike those children, have no monster under my bed. More than anything, because the monster is now on it. But what if you do keep a box full of useless tools. There are hundreds of letters, diaries full of songs, phrases, quotes and more. There are also bracelets, "collars" pens, paints, toys, trading cards, sticker collections, drawings. There is everything there, and most difficult, is finding something in particular from such disorder.
have spent so many years now, since my monster leave my bed every time I see that box full of things, I think, So many years have passed? So I'm getting old?. And worst of all is that the answer is obvious: no monster, is that you're too old now.
The fact is, although I do not remember when it came, or when it was my little big monster, if I remember when I came my little big box mess. Will get six or seven years, as usual. It began as a box for storing old high school textbooks, and shortly afterwards, after leaving school, became my "memory lane." A trunk, in which little by little, I was saving every little detail shows. Letters from old friends and lovers, I still keep letters written by my mother. Those bracelets were made with thread, as a sign of a great friendship (which is now lost). Save for years and I'm still saving, whatever people gave me or borrow (indefinite) throughout my life. The reason is very simple. Because sometimes me encanta sacarlas y mirarlas, e intentar recordar a aquellas personas que me las ofrecieron en su momento. Ya que para mi, todo cuanto me dejan o me regalan, es un trocito de "amor". Un amor, que siempre guardo bajo mi cama.
Indiyon
0 comments:
Post a Comment