Drops Home Sweet Home Madrid # 1
HOUSE .
long as you have one, if you do not do what is important. From there simply taken for granted.
Then just do not have a fixed roof over his head a few days to begin to wonder how many steps separate us from the beggar who hangs boca Metro, whose life, if we ever stopped to think about it, has always been so.
I found that very little is enough to pull that apparently lives should not have anything in common. And in that moment, when things you gave for granted begin to falter, that you wonder what you are malleable, which is really the limit, and ultimately whether the limits really exist.
Sin embargo,
Madrid fills me with lifeblood. Wake up every morning with a warm ray of sunshine on the cheek is a luxury that I thought existed only in Disneyland. Our Buhardilla from this point of view is perfect ... the perfect house in the perfect city. And with no neighbors to reclaim the noises at night, especially.
Let it pains me, especially because I am convinced that we do not take care of it properly. It could be the apartment of dreams and unfortunately is left to itself: no maintenance, no love, no that the living as it should. We could if we had stayed longer. So I think it would be worth it to take care of her.
I will miss as a person.
Being here I feel that my brain opens like a flower in the laboratory. Experimenting with a new language, it must unfold as quickly as not to miss anything that could be used socially.
In fact, they are forced to beg in different words and fumbling Sentidos . Fortunately, the training (or trend) to listen carefully to the voices of others is teaching me something that no manual of grammar I have ever found so far, namely the relationship between someone's voice and his native language. The Castilian (especially women) tend to have a low tone, but very clean. Hard to find here a girl who squeals like the Anglophone (U.S. sobretodo), or words that seem to drain as they do French and German (which sounds to me are muy parecidos, or rather, they require a similar approach for speech signals - that being said I prefer the aural troubles). The English spoken by lifting the chin, and their voices are supported in the neck and sternum: spreading them in the chest clean and clear, and arrives at the listener purified of all the uncertainty. Even the voices are hoarse more clarity - and I hear it a lot, because the tone is more bass vibrates with small imperfections and delicious. I knew a the transcendent beauty girl whose voice, in harmonious accord with her, she Interference in pappa sandy send me your ears every time I listen.
I thought with a tinge of regret that it would be absurd to listen to the beautiful Italian without knowing it, to feel just like playing . Foreigners who have asked what they think I have answered all of my tongue like a song. Entonces, Italian is the language of the song. Pretentious and absolutist, but I like to bask in that luxury concept.
E 'statement with no real weight, but I think I would love this language even if it was not mine. Or perhaps above all for that.
