A blown I thought the other day, and I upload to my blog, keep this in oblivion. Just for a moment: the stories are already starting to arrive ...
In the morning my brother talked about superheroes. Asked if there were, whether they were real, whether they were possible. My mom, eloquent, I said no, despite the attempts of children, which they named as superhero name heard in his life, always collided with a negative response.
I wanted to do something else. Make your dream a reality and to awaken in the morning with the news that a mysterious masked man running at the speed of lightning had saved the world from destruction, that the evening news is filled with images of a man jumping from building bat , and that people will point to the sky wondering what forwards it.
I wanted to be a bit like God.
And I began to think of many things. I do not know if it's a defect or a virtue, a gift or a curse, but my concentration is equal to zero, and between thought and thought, I came to a conclusion.
I like to have this, my blog, because here I am my own God.
Here I can give life to whatever character you like: good, bad, kind, cruel, ruthless, handsome, ugly, athletic, deformed ... I can do that from the ground arise any herbs you want, since the sky falls down what I please, that the wind sounds with melodies I choose. Here I can create, knitting, forget invent, destroy, I can be my best friend, my most careful father, the fighter of my brothers, the most ruthless opponent, the guitarist with stiff fingers, the singer with a hoarse voice, the tree with green leaves The dog's coat silkier, or noisy waterfall and beautiful of all.
But once I realized these things, I told myself, things that I have to do, that while not small but not too much either, I forget to take care of my world created by my hand, I can not yell at God, or whoever watch over us, if at some point I came to feel left on the road.
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