was a cold day when I came to the soul. The sun is accommodated in a little over the mountains to the west. The fear was always present in my being, fear is frightening as the bare trees in winter. To return all a bit tragic I was alone in the world. There was no friends and loves to draw upon. Just had my music and books. I had smoked a pack of cigarettes in two hours. And my skin began to turn gray. He looked like a skinned human ashes. Or stone skin. I was very depressed because I had turned to leave, for the umpteenth time a relationship was not working. Or a disgrace. The world knew that was left, the universe knew that was left over, I'm sure there was an error in the constellations on the day I was born for example, that a meteor fell disrupting the plans of the blue bodies.
Turning to cigarettes, I turned gray. Gray as a ghost, like a rock, like a metal. Like a rock metal like a ghost. Ghost, rock and metal. Ethereal, hard and cold. Cold Metal hard rock ghost ethereal. One thing led to another and the result was more than the sum of its parts: Soledad. Was doomed to be alone. But to assume that would be one always defending the world was devastating. And I was crushed. Would you say that there are injustices in creation? Could say anything he wanted. I could scream, would spit it out but the world was not going to listen. Somehow, he had formed a strong between me and the world. We were at war. I was actually at war, but he never knew. Because I was but an ant, and the young. It was gray. What would I do? It was gray seriously. So I went out to buy lots of carrots. The seller and the whole world were turned to me, it was impossible not to attract attention. But neither showed much curiosity because no one approached to ask. It was not by discretion. People are always misplaced. But hey, I thought that nobody cared nothing for such a phenomenon is not every day. At this time it was over the news, newspapers ceased to circulate to the masses. The world works in slow motion, all inside of your bubble, afraid to interact with others. All with your cell phone or mp3 and ipods. And I gray. Gray and ignored! I buy carrots and went home. I ate seven but nothing happened. Gray and was still smoking. Because I hope smoking, and smoking waiting. The problem is that I was a lover of life back. I had a fantastic mother was commissioned to introduce the world of literature and let me treat him as he had wanted. So with a very messy reading and knowledge of our history, historical novels just counted I had created a dream, a dream far removed from reality. But optimistic. The problem was the day I turned gray. Like a ghost, ethereal. Like a rock, hard and cold like a metal. I realized that there was no turning back. That man had dug his own grave and already had two feet in and it would be impossible to escape. Because we had destroyed what remained unemployed, we had destroyed our land. The land of all living beings. And my skin stopped being skin. My skin was ash and the bottom of my heart I knew that never again would be skin. Because my being was sad because I had not realized that the world would end because of us. My fault. How to live when one's skin becomes ashes? You can not live. My tears, they looked so ugly in the back of my gray skin. The tears that had appreciated so beautifully sad. I always knew it was wrong to mourn, as long as you cry with color is born. But suddenly it was gray, so my tears were not sense, had no strength.
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