The garden with ants




What would become of the ant community if it were possible to create our system in an anthill? We could see them launching rockets, destroying the garden, and attacking each in a miserable life of exchange relations. High techniques and technology could create a space base on the frigidaire door. 

They could have a scientific and technological system for the formic acid application, and almost all of them would have some education debt, living in social discrimination. And love would be an excellent way to make money.

We could see the justification from justice for the poor around and the privilege of politicians, the grungy sardonic smiles from the rich ants. In many periods a significant part of the common chamber of the population was smashed by ideology and merchandising journalism in a consigned moral.

By the way, this can happen but do not now. Imagine being obligated to get out of the house, going to live in a poisonous electrical tower, and being forbidden to leave.


Certainly, I was thinking in a garden.

I am someone who came from a place that never was. River water, calm lakes, waterfalls, edges where bushes and trees grow, the open field, the sky reflected in my hands in the trembling mirror of the river, the waits I am, this man lying in the river in the middle of autumn of my existence, loves his children, he likes to be alone, and he has a great company. I leave out the conceptual groups that put their finger on the face and follow fashion. I try not to be like that. In this boat, I am also the water where I sail. I take the sky with me, the fields, the flowers, and the fragrant herbs all my mornings. I am a being of the dawn. The scandal of nature in the voice of a bird, the incessant hum of the bells that insects make. I look like it, but I am not afraid of anything. I do not think I ever was. Indeed, my father, especially my mother, sweetly led me to read and write. I am always primary; I am still learning to read and write, row, and let the boat go safely. pmnt

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