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jueves, 27 agosto 2009 |
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I miss the bumps that heal up with mummy’s kiss. I wish to konw when do the life stoped being a game, and when does make a hole in the ball the hand of the clock that counts the seconds.I wish to know why do they teach maths in the school to live in a world that two and two never is four. The hands of my clock never counts seconds, minutes nor hours. The hands of my clock counts histories, those ones that I live every day; Your look… …looking for mine… Your look… …looking to the girl next to me; because two and two never is four. A car turned in the road of Legutio… …just a wrist sprain… A car turned in the road of Legutio… …two competitions more lost; again, two plus two… I miss the bumps that heal up with the daddy’s kiss. |
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viernes, 25 julio 2008 |
Nire logelako atepeko zirrikitutik sartzen den txokolate eginberriaren usaina sumatzeaz batera zabaldu dizkiot asteko azken egunsentiari begiak. |
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viernes, 25 julio 2008 |
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Nire urratsek hainbat mendi magal gurutzatu dituzte harkaitz bide berrien usna.Txokorik izkutuenak ere arakatu ditut eta harri arteko nomada gehiago topatu ere bai harkaitzetako bide ederrei bostekoa emateko irrikitan. |
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miércoles, 02 mayo 2007 |
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Érase una vez dos hermanos que vivían en Dima. El mayor, Unai era un hombre serio y cabal y le gustaba meditar profundamente las decisiones que tomaba. Sin embargo el mas joven, Gorka, era totalmente distinto, impulsivo y de reacciones rápidas. |
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jueves, 08 febrero 2007 |
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A vosotros que me otorgáis el titulo de Madre Os dejo: |
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solasak 
