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Growing Up (Red Tea) Avenida Eldorado

Coming home and boil the kettle. Take off my shoes, stockings, put on the pajama pants and sitting on the table. No noise and you can breathe for a few minutes alone. Bring tea and open the laptop, let the fingers on the keyboard to improvise as a worker rather than a word was a jazz pianist, as elaborate variations on the eternal scales frets Cecilia, as if to musicality to get wood instead of looking for nice words send encrypted messages:

- "Look, I wish you were here. I'm almost an adult and it's happening than I ever thought would happen: I like to grow. It's nice to take off their shoes when they get home, prepare some tea, read a little, writing songs in the rain Bogota instead of looking for parties to address strangers or talk to people in the entertainment industry. It's nice to get out of the shower and feel my hairline rises year after year that I have more hair growing everywhere, it's becoming harder to lose a pound more but it is increasingly easy to identify the traps and treasures I will put life on the road. That more is less straightforward stand 30 minutes in the treadmill, but it is natural increasingly spend hours in the hammock reading or trying to write sweet words. It would be nice if you were here and test the latest on red tea, or some of my recipes improvised while we were going the night talking - without stopping - and fascinating irrelevant issues, while I teach you how to tune a ukulele or talk about banned subjects for normal people like politics and religion, or as you showed the pictures I have stored in the closet, while another will decide if that kiss happen to allow us to be a little part of each other and exchange best memories: Take me to that concert and you were not you take me to the concert that I so envy you. "