Midnight Muse

(Estas fotos no me pertenecen/These pictures do not belong to me)

He estado reescribiendo en un largo proyecto las tres cartas de "Para mi Podrida Prometida" con una calidad de prosa mucho mayor :)

Why? Why do you want me to be only capable of seeing the paper work in front of me and to think only about the bills I have to pay?

Why aren't you tired of hearing cars and chatter instead of birds and rivers flowing? Why are you okay with white corals and whales being given death?

Why do you call overconsumption economic growth? Why do you believe you are comfortable and happy in the four-walled-concrete cube which is nothing but a prison with the name of "home"? How does your soul not scream at the sight of the sea, imploring you to let yourself free? How does your heart not ache when a tree falls and a gun shot is heard because they have just shot down the last black giraffe?

And why don't you long for the old days and are perfectly fine with an old building being pulled down?

What future do you seek? What future do you think you will find?