Cockroach Crap Look Like

In parks and rain

We had been slightly shifted the axis of the heart. The cardiologists did not give credit. Looked at the results, collated data, consulting monumental medical encyclopedias, and did not come to understand why we were still alive. We also said Carmen. It's a strange coincidence. Since it was born, of course. And then to accumulate such a collection of fantastic stuff in the attic of memory. All too complicated for a mechanism so primitive. And to top that beautiful girl that sometimes propped the ruin in which we had become the night watchman who lit the lamps but did not shine the highway, but the sad landscape, the loneliness of the insects, the luminous eyes of gatos; la principita que jugaba a saltar sobre nuestra maltrecha máquina de vivir como si fuese un charco, como una niña de pelo bien corto saltando en los charcos un rato después de la lluvia. Demasiado peso en una estructura tan endeble. Algo había girado en la caja torácica. Algo no estaba en su sitio. Y sin embargo, por una extraña casualidad (aunque la casualidad sea siempre menos extraña que perversa) lo mismo que nos estaba matando era lo que nos mantenía con vida.