long ago that I dedicate a few words of my own to this day. Not that it has nothing to tell, is that soon I have to share. Now that our privacy is violated more frequently and social networks make us more stupid and lazy, I like to keep my opinions to share in any bar, any friend or acquaintance, rather than make them public in the network. But the art of writing is something that is either grown or lost, so clear. I do not want that to happen
There is no better place than this, my diary for more than six years.
I have thirty years since a week ago and like all his thirties,small details of life of people with no other purpose than to ask for them later. Sometimes I care, some do not. I know people appreciated these gestures of interest, I notice it in his eyes and his smile, but I can not help but feel that I do not manipulate events for me to mention these details in a conversation. So desperate are the people that becomes your lap dog just because you ask for the dinner he had with his girl or the health of the aunt who mentioned a few days ago? So devoid of emotion is the world? Report
again I speak dand a social dimension, this is not at all applicable to my closest people, which are becoming less, without which there would not even be able to be happy. Fortunately, I have clear who these people are.
before losing the hills of Ubeda I talked about writing plays now return the focus of discourse and talk about reading.
By reading I mean that I use to distract me and that I use to learn. The second category is years in the forgetfulness. I've realized that I devour books are those that entertain me most (so much comic in this LJ) and should not be. ButLXC
Thanks for getting here
"Learning without thinking is useless. Thinking without learning, dangerous "Confucius
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