After nearly three decades, I've started this January without the traditional parts of the agenda for the new year. It has been ten days of 2011 and still not miss too much, maybe because I have not had time, perhaps because he had scored in the very agenda that would hold ten days without agenda. I must admit that I was accustomed to his company nearly constant, as if it were an extension of my arm, always there with his blade ready to warn of small everyday forgetfulness that memory is not known or not tolerated, or to determine the moments that weave the web of the future with your deposit of melancholy, with its obstinate refusal to chance. I wonder if I will have won the lazy to go look at the store or beyond carelessness, have contributed the conscious of not wanting to accompany me during the voyage for the new year. I wonder if the desire of unacknowledged limb without that my life will bring peace or unrest, the blowing air of freedom from the unmissable, or if, conversely, make me feel the irreparable orphans who can not live without parcel time at will - how naive! - like a little god povinciano, disciplined and tiny.
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