i celebrate this first night of the new year and while i drink wine (ok, i 'm not drinking right now) i think about all the writers who drank alcohol and about that union, very good indeed, between alcohol and literature.

and i find out that even when drinking wine can make you feel untied or whatever, there is impossible to reach that state of illuminati... and it is impossible to feel so untied to make such deep confessions.

i truly believe that you are a genious or not, and it has not connection with the wine you drink

and i also believe that i cant write what i really feel about many things, even in this state... or probably because i havent drunk enough.

anyway, happy new year

and i tie my fingers for not go on writing a couple of truths that you deserve to read

good night