Coso
Coso

Coso is my only friend, at least the one who understands me.

We share the passion of watching the washing machine spin. He barks, I have a beer. But it makes you think, life spins around you in different colors. It stops, everything falls, it starts again transforming everything into a whistle and a color, made of different shades that spin losing their identity. In the end, Coso is right when he's mesmerized by that vortex, what is life after all? He barks, we live by barking. Perhaps the barking of a dog is heard by a kind soul, our barking is lost in the wind.

Coso, let's go out. You are happy. I get drunk.

You are happy because you are with me, I envy you because I'm not happy with you. I take you to bars forgotten by God, but you are happy because you are with me.

It's not true that I'm not happy with you, who would lick my face in the morning?

Coso, you are a furry thing, perhaps the only being that truly loves me.

Almost makes me want to give you two hits and if you protest I kick you out of the house, I didn't understand who feeds you for free, takes you around and you refuse me two hits?

A little gratitude.