always my head was spinning by the theory that a hospital, clinic or similar place tempted me to write and find in them a more than suitable. Now I've found.
The first time I felt it was when I was at night in a hospital caring for an injured friend. At that time gave rise to a script for the faculty then took a short film. Following the linguistic outburst in a genre like the fictional little addressed by me, I had a few more opportunities in these areas so depressing and lonely, and, in each of these encounters with the realm of health, came to me, the desire to dwell in writing.
In recent days I've spent some hours in one of these homes for health and I want to point invaded the text. There had to be a particular letter, I was able to write from a gloss to a novel. I had the feeling of wanting to vomit too real all in an essay.
This strong bond Hospital-Writing may be because when we are in a place like the hours are longer , not too many things to do, more to read and perhaps watching TV, or wander the aisles, exit to the village, re-enter, sit, stand, accommodate, talk to strangers and so cyclically while rotating the hands of time with the same speed that I own a leek to differentiate a green onions.
Will both boredom inspires me to seek refuge a little of the giddy everyday leaves me ready to throw on paper so I can not banish sweat and occupations. is, in some part, a form of hyperactivity.
During the day, news of such a bombing TN optimism that made the lady who was dying in the next room seems straight out of a tickle session. In the evening seems to listen to the clean serum drip, hypnotic sound that I hacedormirysoñarconfusoyconlagargantaylosojosresecosdetantoestrujarpensamientos.
A new day, the shade is raised, the body is stretched, the world raises, nurses who pass, as the ideas such as hours, like life, like ghosts, and dread, as the bitter silence, as the miserable human condition, like you and me.
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