This is not my story.
I’m bringing to you because I want everyone to knows stories like this.
He isn’t a singer, he isn’t a painter or a film director.
He is always upon in the clouds, flying from one dream to another one.
Waiting to find a way to pass his lonely hours.
He uses some heavy substance to touch the moon and feel the comfort of the rain on his body.
He likes to wears clothes without colours so he will be overlooked.
He loves life. He loves women and to ride his bike when the breeze of the evening. He loves to scare people with his wild ride. Ride in the middle of a bunch of tourist waiting to walk back to the hotel make his so happy like a 12 years old boy.
The saddest eyes she wore are painful for everyone has a soul.
Her eyes still have the sign of the last night cries and the grey clouds approaching in the sky are the sign that more rain will come soon and his body will be wet, and he smiles of this.
August weather is quite unusual this year. Humidity and high temperatures create the wish on him to change his life.
No more heavy drinks and that girl, with those eyes, could maybe be the key to change his attitude.
He doesn’t want to lose himself again. He doesn’t wish to back in his room watching the pigeons peck on the tall roof in the front of his window and fall asleep like every night with the brain completely switch off.
He won’t go to sleep and dream about the waves in the Ocean, the high mountains full of snow and make those dreams a reality.
He just needs to find the key, those eyes could be the keys to save his life.
Just he could decide his life direction, no one else, like a man with a boat alone in the ocean. He could prevent the winds from killing him. Need just do not expose himself again to the demons inside himself.
