Blanco o negro, a veces la vida se resume en dos colores

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Blanco o negro, a veces la vida se resume en dos colores

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¿Vivo o sólo respirando? Hay noches en que los sueños se acaban, todos. Quizá hoy es uno de esos días en que al despertar sientes como el tiempo ha pasado y te ha convertido en lo que eres ahora, o sólo ha servido para entender que no has cambiado en nada. Podría ser que hoy, te encuentras en el mismo lugar, rodeado de las mismas personas, contemplando el mismo paisaje, recorriendo el mismo camino. Hoy, camina como el que no tiene rumbo y borra las huellas para que nadie te siga… nada acaba y nada empieza; todo continúa. ◦ Alive or just breathing? There are nights when the dreams end, all of them. Maybe today is one of those days when you wake up, you feel like time has passed and it has made you who you are now, or have only served to understand that you have not changed at all. It could be that today, find yourself on the same place, surrounded by the same people, looking at the same landscape, following the same path. Today, walk as one who has no direction and clears the footprints so that no one follows you ... nothing begins and nothing ends; everything continues. Have a great week @Instagram friends
| E T É R E O | Caminan ausentes las almas errantes, sus pasos, uno tras otro, sin pausa, los dirigen firmes y convencidos a ningún destino. Sus huellas recorren un camino en busca de un pasado que han olvidado pero que recuerdan una y otra vez. Para los caminantes etéreos hace tiempo que no existe la realidad y a diario los golpea la idea de los sueños incumplidos; para ellos no existen las palabras, tampoco existe el eco donde no hay palabras que se quieran expresar, ni almas que se quieran encontrar. En un mundo de caminantes etéreos, no soy más, no soy menos; soy sólo yo en mis adentros. ◦ Walk away the wandering souls, their steps, one after the other without pause, lead them firm and convinced to no destination. Their footsteps follow a path in search of a past they have forgotten but they remember again and again. For ethereal walkers in a while there is no reality and the idea of unfulfilled dreams hits them every day; for them there are no words, and there's no even echo where there are no words that they want to express, nor souls who want to find each other. In a world of ethereal walkers, I'm no more, I'm not less; I'm just in my insides.
| La Sombra del Árbol | Inmerso en un sueño etéreo bajo la sombra del árbol, en un andar que se diluye en negadas intensiones y ambigüedades de un mundo que no es más. ◦ Immersed in an ethereal dream under the shade of the tree, in a walk that is diluted in denied intentions and ambiguities of a world that is no more.