Edgar A. Poe, rest in peace

07. October 2016 Diary 0
Edgar A. Poe, rest in peace
Today, 167 years ago Edgar Allan Poe’s life came to a tragic end, and with only 40 years old The Death held his hand and took him under its icy embrace. I have no doubt that he left us too early, with 40 years old he was still too young to die. But somehow he ...

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Midnight Lights

Midnight Lights
The wheel of time turns incessant without showing the slightest compassion towards all those small and insignificant mortals who devote all their efforts to keep up with it. The wheel of time turns implacable taking with it everything that stays in its path; the wheel turns and turns making the time to slip through our ...

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The Haunted Forest

The Haunted Forest
On the outskirts of the village grows the boundary of the Haunted Forest. Its tall and dark trees tower high as if pretending to pierce the sky; their straight and perfect trunks, as black as ebony, warn visitors of the deadly dangers that dwell in its realm; however, their high tops sway in the wind ...

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Those little things

Those little things
After spending days lost in eucalyptus forests, after spending days among trees that could easily reach 50 meters tall, after spending days feeling fascinated by its large size, while feeling tiny and insignificant, I realized that the beauty of these forest didn’t lay only on its spectacular trees. After spending days taking pictures of tall ...

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The Soul Stealer

17. August 2016 Writing 2
The Soul Stealer
(Español) Cerró su libro, lo depositó sobre la mesita y cogió la taza. Bebió tranquilo unos sorbos de aquel delicioso té, sintiendo como el líquido caliente bajaba por su garganta reconfortándole. Se levantó de su asiento y caminó hacía el gran ventanal. Apartó una de las pesadas cortinas y la aseguró a un lado, atándola con un grueso cordón dorado...

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Those rainy days

10. August 2016 Diary 0
Those rainy days
Today I’ve opened my window, today I’ve opened the shutters for first time and I’ve taken out the curtains. Today, for first time in the whole summer, natural light has entered my room, that melancholic blue light of the rainy days has entered my room. I’ve stood still in front of the window, staring at ...

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Beauty always hides something wicked

02. August 2016 Writing 0
Beauty always hides something wicked
(Español) \"Cuanto más hermosa sea la rosa más afiladas serán sus espinas pues la belleza siempre oculta algo malvado\" - La Bruja sin Nombre Desde siempre he sentido cierta simpatía hacia el antagonista de cada historia, hacia el malo de la película, y es por eso que en todo cuanto escribo e imagino el \"malo\" tiene incluso más importancia que el protagonista...

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The theme is witchcraft again

18. July 2016 Diary 2
The theme is witchcraft again
I’ve been recently working on what will be the central pillar of my final grade work, or at least what I hope it will be if it’s not pull back. It was an idea in which I thought one hundred times before deciding to carry it out, but that was obviously not enough, because once ...

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Sleepless nights of poetry

Sleepless nights of poetry
For years I’ve been wondering what is that that we call inspiration, where does it come from, what makes it appear and why it leaves us so suddenly, why each person finds inspiring different things or places. And although I haven’t reached a good answer to any of those questions I’ve realized about something, we ...

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