Entre l'art i les fotografies en blanc i negre

.:Wednesday, October 31, 2007:.

London Calling

Was it spontaneity? or just causes from a overdosis of South African wine? was is Luisa and her Southamerican accent? or perhaps the need to get away from the city I now call home.

So we left, with the moon as out only light.

I would hear whispers telling me they'd like me to know that I might have found myself a right that could never go wrong... and there we went.

Flying to the Isles, playing poker with a magician as he whispered facts and memories and tricks between hearts, dimonds and spades.

And there we were, living the life of the rich and famous with a poor british accent, 2 pounds in our hands and no cards under our sleeves.

::

.:Lo wrote this at: 1:59 PM:.

The story starts again.

life knocked on my door. I knew it was time to make a change, to write again, even if all of you have left and perhaps will never return. This has always been an experiment for me and as egocentric as it can sound, nothing will stop me from writing here...
but, if you ever comeby, there's always an empty wall where you can leave your message,
after the beep.

::

.:Lo wrote this at: 1:55 PM:.
...

.:Thursday, October 18, 2007:.

Oh Oh Den Haag.

::

.:Lo wrote this at: 12:54 PM:.
...