Some time ago I wanted to write about this issue, not only about the physical doors that we open every day but about those doors that we always have open in our soul.

Wow, you have to have strength to live and survive them. , many, which we keep wide and others; that complete their cycle and we must close. This is life and this is how human beings are...

The second door that I open is the one that leads to the patio of my house, one can see the sunrise and thank God because we live one more day to dream and one less day of youth. The Sun illuminates the hallways of the house and we think or play with our minds about the problems that arise and have to be resolved back home: "Home, sweet home"

The front door of my house. This is where I open the door to go directly to 11th Street, mounted on my tile, it is part of that desire to want to return to my home.

I must pass the key so that outsiders do not enter the patio and do not escape Charlie or Misha (A dachshund and an old minipincher) If those pets escape I am a man out of my own bed...

How worn this door looks, perhaps the years do not forgive her like they do one and wow how quickly they go by when you're an adult. My mother told me that this was a biblical question, where "the years run like months, the months like days and the days like hours." I would add, until we finally return to the cosmos, which is where we belong...