La crisis de personalidad que me debió de haber dado cuando estaba en secundaria, me está dando hasta ahora, a mis casi 21 años.
Monday, July 28th, 2014.
Remembering him comes in flashbacks and echoes. Tell myself it’s time now, gotta let go. But moving on from him it’s impossible when I still see it all in my head burning red.
❝ I have learned that if you must leave a place that you have lived in and loved and where all your yesteryears are buried deep, leave it any way except a slow way, leave it the fastest way you can. Never turn back and never believe that an hour you remember is a better hour because it is dead. Passed years seem safe ones, vanquished ones, while the future lives in a cloud, formidable from a distance. ❞
- Beryl Markham
"West with the night".