Friday, February 25, 2011
Is La Fitness A Good Job
Madrid (Intro.) pre-pampering getaway.
Monday 21, five p.m.
.
today I feel better than ever. I'm happy, beaming. I have wanted to caress me and let others do it for me.
and stay with you, just to cuddle on the couch before I go. because whenever I go somewhere I like to get your warmth with me.
this time you hold me tight, you know how much these two madrid days mean to me.
is not only my first fashion week, not just shoes, or see my friends.
is an oasis within these comings and goings of humor that happen in compostela, is walking with a paper cup in hand, is put on heels to go shopping.
is freedom, relief, behind the glass doors of an airport.
charge batteries that power back to moments that I love but I am bored, I curtailed, limited.
a break I needed. also to learn at last to understand the metro.
and thus give eight.
and cuddling each other, let me caress your feet and paint my nails. I smeared creams and scrubs, and for the first time in months dye their end of the fingers of my hand a crimson color that is not (the new Chanel vernis well deserves it).
I get home at ten, with a strange uneasiness. I can not stop talking, I have no suitcase made.
'm nervous, and exhausted.
afraid to expect too much of just forty-eight hours.
on my agenda there are two parades, an address on Claudio Coello, an encounter with someone whose web space fascinates me, inspires me, makes me smile every day, and another with texts that keep me on the mac keys until after three o'clock.
and talking with the latter I get in bed, thinking of Gin Tonics and Baroque rings over a hundred euros.
with a smile on the face, hands and feet soft, and the heart wildly.
dreaming through the streets of Madrid.
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