What I've done
Blejan was flying around up in the sky of Mexico City. Her spread wings shining with the sun rays touching her litmus skin... The weather is nice. 21ºC. Her body comes and turned itself mimicking the cloudy state there. Laying her feets to the skyscraper in Polanco she can watch what's left of the green in the city. Chapultepec, Los Viveros in Coyoacán, the forest sorrounding what's mainly gray and black. The concrete aspect of the place, the burning heat. The running all over. Everyone trying to catch the next bus, the next stop in a nonsense runaround of being alive in this huge city. She can breathe the stress, the anguish, but also the hopes and dreams, all those noises of several millions of minds creating altogether the reality they think is best. Some of them are scaping reality by just telling themselves tomorrow would get better, that there's a future day which would be better. They could rest. They'll do what their hearts telling them. There's a day when, ...