Monique Alexander 2010

Fable Of the gravediggers of dreams (nightmares growing instructions)



(Yesterday, in a minor crisis compared to a notebook)

raining outside.
drops hitting the leaves of the tree that is next to the window, trembling nervously as the legs of an insect. Occasionally
storm light fingers down to earth, and both cry out to be ...
In my head, things are very different. Ideas come and go without stopping, and I have the feeling that when try to play the role both will break into pieces. Whenever
least understand politics, left the government ... thinking is a burden, but a necessary burden.
Every day I buried voices "in haras major objectives, looking at a broader ideal, what ideal? Does the "human capital"?
Today I dreamed I went to a set of flags. Everywhere flags and banners, deployed to the wind. After looking a long time, I decided that I would not carry any, and then woke up.
flag is tempting ... one can stick to it and use it sometimes with band, so much affection covers politics! Yesterday
boarded a bus, and while he paid the guard saw it on his head a sign saying "Tabaré President."
And that to me translates into slums, the Committee discussions, graffiti, speeches, puteada occasional sacrifice of a lot of people who played it all (and more) so that one day the government left off.
But it also means veto for abortion, a statue of the pope in a public space, Breach of the water plebiscite, U.S. trade agreements, approve the pulp mill ... Every time I understand
least whenever it hurts more is happening.

Can U Get Heavy Implantation Bleeding

can always drop a little more ...

Onetti A sample of close to where I work ... I passed today Hence once again, to review with eyes the windows to keep their scribbles (as if the eyes were a boy flannel, which is stretched by the glass clouding the picture).
was a video showing him old, in a entrvista, spoke about his hermetic world, about their difficulties in communicating, about his childhood (so happy that there was nothing to say), on "The Well" ...
and always smoking, always smoke chasing him like a shadow ... I think about it and see the huge cigar and those glasses, covering his face as if to hide the slowness with which he closed his eyelids, and hiding from everything that was not part of it. I think
Onetti and invade me a deep sense of sincerity, a type that was, a cigar, a couple of lenses and Santa Maria ...