One of every life process: create layers. Someone tells this the aura, what surrounds you. That humor is sucked in at first contact.
What had to be separated is done, but externally. One can mutate like a chameleon and be the color of the environment and adapt under the circumstances.
Personally, on the inside, what you keep in your heart, what instinctively drives you, what unconsciously motivates you, what makes you irrational. Have you already detected it? Can you change it now?
On the second day we concluded that there is, to continue deepening until separating more things. What is oppressing you, above you. And what is pulling, under you.
The earth is extensive from the change and on it remembers there is a first heaven, a second heaven and a third heaven. In these heavens, degrees of internal conflict are managed to change resulting in degrees of overcoming, such as: sensitivity, awareness and regeneration.
One can feel like a child again. It even seems that our skin rejuvenates, when our inner being is in harmony with his Creator and with everything created.
(… Meanwhile, it was put together: a chat of literary girls)
"Did you find out: What are those two, Bierny and your Xuli 'Latroso' up to?" Nalexa said jokingly to Alondra.
—Ay, little sister of my heart, don't call my Xuli like that. I know, he wanted to be smart with me, in the end he got what he deserved and I have to shut up the past, because I have it back. I really don't know: How to help him? It's that I love him so much. Alondra said, clearing some friction; and taming the facts, she added:
—No sign, though, I found in one of his pockets: a crumpled paper with a poem a little strange to me. I will read it for you. But promise that you will not cheat eh, because it sounds like heartbreak or family problems. Could it be that any of his friends will be involved in these tasks? "Explained her first point of view, Lark."
"I'm all ears," Nalexa said.
—Listen, and tell me please: What do you understand? because I recognize that it is his letter. But: since when did he become a poet? Said Alondra, and proceeded to recite the poem:
Title: Andanzas del Amar:
For walking slowly,
my heart was ripped out ...
She goes to the park to run among the flowers.
I sowed: Roses, and I waited for them to grow in our garden.
She would ask my friends for advice on growing flowers.
She was waiting with them for the first seeds:
Are there so many seeds to choose from?
I expected the ones with a good color and the best home scent.
Yes: She leaves, and you stay,
then all of yours want to leave too ...
And if: she returns, and there is no one.
What do you do to yourself
You bought her house for her ...
The car for the children to take them to school.
You planted the flowers to keep it there.
Didn't you think she rains hard !?
You didn't notice the stars
In the times of love.
Is love no longer routine?
The swaying of their paths announce them in endless networks!
Disconnected from the virtual world: I lost!
"It's crystal clear, he's referring to you: Alondra," Nalexa said, broadening her interpretations. Quoting: The swaying of their paths are announced in endless networks! Disconnected from the virtual world: I lost! -Indeed:
—Alondra: you stop into social networks and Xuli: not one of those struggles. Xuli prefers melee confrontation. - Placing a happy face, a sign that it was funny what was revealed.
"You're right, deep down," said Alondra. So: What is she trying to say, apart from our misconduct?
"I think I know the heart of the matter," Nalexa said. "Quoting:" I sowed: Roses, and hoped they would grow in our garden. " You can tell that your man is going to settle down. That he is going to let himself be guided. That he wants to make a home with you. And that he is letting go of his fears so as not to lose in the attempt.
"That is formidable." That's my man. I knew I could trust him, deep down he is like a child afraid of losing himself in my arms ... "He sketched: Alondra," a short [11] poetry. Adding, to the already composed:
Stopping to Love.
You're my man.
I knew that he could trust you
deep down you are like a child afraid of getting lost in my arms ...
"How to say I get it !?
And that in this pilgrimage: We will go together hand in hand!
I will not be, but the seed,
That your hands chose for our garden.
And I will wait for the rain of your fears
And I will wait for the clouds of your games,
And we will play to wallow without end. Until it takes root.
And I'll wait for your river
If I am stone I will roll to your waves, to your slope I will be:
Molded: until you calm down.
On the shore I will be the sign of a new dawn.
Each kiss will be the reflection of the sap that is in you.
Each mirror will repeat the advice on a sheet.
And even if the wind picks up ...
Until the storm formed ...
I will be the branch that takes care of giving you shade.
And I will be the flower and the fruit and I will be a bird:
And I will have wings to dwell closer until I am honey to you.
You are the honeycomb, you will be the tree, the house you dreamed of having.
"And how will we do it?" To hand it over to him, "Nalex observed.
to-. Without ceasing to be surprised by the exposed poem, with great sincerity.
-You tell me. Alondra demanded. "I did my part."
-It's okay! Let's serve something to eat. And let's have a soda. In a while, ideas to make a good delivery will come.
After a while, more relaxed and ready to find an ingenious idea to deliver the poem.
-I got it! She yelled: Nalexa: "That Xuli liked it, on Bierny's birthday: Do you remember?"
"Sure! But that cake was made by you for Bierny." Said Alondra.
"Ah, but Xuli repeated: twice," he clarified: Nalexa. We prepare one of the two, so the gift of friendship will be more sincere, in the middle of the cake, and inside a bag: the poem will be.
"The message won't be very direct." Alondra exclaimed.
-Unlike. Instead of walking around looking for advice in which holes like a rabbit. Better that I say it to you, at once. This is how they learn to get along. To deal with yourselves. They smooth your rough edges in time and improve your "marital" relationship. Nalexa argued.
—It's like this: Right !? Said Alondra.
The plot extends to: 7 Creator Games.
(Contestant work for WFP # 34, Writing Formule Practice)
(English version) https://www.webnovel.com/book/7-creator-games_19366455705122805
(Spanish version) https://www.webnovel.com/book/el-creador-de-7-juegos_19366871205123905