ANIMAL PLASMA

  Take your feet and go to the Moon. Still have time for you. If you do not to want to do that you will be unfortunate for the rest of your life. The strangers from other galaxies are stupid like many beings that speak around you, the difference is that they are superlative. They understand only the words bound with things, for example; love can be a car, barbecue fire, your or an ice cream. You can talk aloud like an ice-scream-man, they never will understand you. Forget. This people just are living between bipeds here on earth. They are thieves, soul collectors, trappers, falser, fakes and pretenders. From a planet unknown, they are coming all the time.  The Invaders come, they are using your indulgence to enjoy anything, your time, cashes, clothes, taking the dog to walk like it was nothing. They are come cracking down the door from your worth pride and honor, putting their dirty hands on everything, smiling at suspense, in scaring for your soul, pretending joy. You are a t...

  Before dying, I will throw a plague against you, but while it does not happen I machine what I could do. I think in any way. I will be cruel, you will have read publicly the reporters from public departments of art and culture from those ordinary authoritarian countries from the last decades. Naturally, if you had not any literary knowledge, I would elect you as the must of the world in art and culture to be a candidate to exchange positions with any actual and singular dictatorship.  They accept any purpose. As stupid as they are, they will support you. It is until now my plague. I imagined you making some homage to slavers, misogynistic, ageist, country heroes or on the contrary such is the same. If you do not have as to do that. I wait for you at the hell door. Wait, and you will see.

The literary reflections on Nature, between imaginary and reality fantasy.   I’m looking at the field lo have been here to hear the birds sing since 1.100 a.C for was possibly emerged this plane. I live nearby here and each morning still dawn, before sunrise and its rays are cutting out all borders along the mountains flashing up the reflection on river skin filling the lake of a blue never seen creating an atmosphere of light refreshing by wind that crosses all regions taking wings of many colors dancing in the air and diving to the bushes, fluttering joyfully among late flowers with the new of the season. It is     springtime and it is possible to still see an ocean of blue and orange from winter. I have been more cautious with modifying my feelings of equality of the weather; I was skeptical about beliefs on nature equality, but it is not with human intervention. The seasons are no longer the same, colder and hotter in variation with raged winds and rains,   ...

  Notice: This work, or not-short story follows while I can do that, writing to give a new start for each moment. While it can be possible I will write to you without searching for answers, only trying to offer continuity. I do not know if I will have the condition for, but I will try. I do not remember climbing up a tree top; I just had seen the distance before I fell down to the ground. Sometimes we fall from the top of our own ourself believes. I have some age to follow the path to the graveyard, and I no longer have the promise to have a place to live, how it can be possible in any neighbouring distance. Maybe, I think I would live beyond humanity as a helper, hero, and philanthropist. The worst human those who is intelligent and able for to manipulate people little intelligent, but does not only that I suppose, is necessary that people be grotesque, low moral values, religious by interest, and easily to be led to ignominious acts following a command. A psychopath can from his ...

Love do not exit for many Knowing that from old time I did not Love is not forever         our enemies care of the end They enter into our life- something short and filled of impossibilities We go enjoy a little peace and there is the mourning from battles War remains odd flanks Ongoing with terror Each one goes away and a feeling of absent cover us We see through misty the indistinct journey of the death No remorse when knowing that the evil lived what we had to witness However in a lovely loniliness and sweet dispair wether can read something from other language and culture unknown until arrive to complete unknowing They took our hope and now we have ourselves and what we will not being

  She likes me and I like her We like us I don’t know anything. I believe that she doesn’t know about that too. She says love stuff and I make the same. She and me both. We miss each other and search for to be together.    Love is something of a cowardly force that leads everyone not wanting others absent. To be alone causes panic for these people. To be in yourself. A yourself without roots, anchor, or existence sense of an individuality that is enough auto centered. In the same way it is a pursuit, as are the aims, knowing that they lack something. The love for to reach fame, glory, a goal produces a repetitive intent of fill a void, the transcendental hole called self-love. In reason of that, we never arrive to completeness awareness, love is in all mode a modular will of to have a witness that release, remembrance our confidence in seek peace, the miror reflexionable for where the love emerges and translight in transcendence.  It is it clearly an belonging from e...

  “God said”, told the old man sat along beach in a day of cold summer. “What said the Lord?” Others asked in follow up this. In this confusion of everyone takes the word, asking all the time continuously. Those whom said that “God said” in an impetuous scream: “Forget, it is enough, I did not say anything.”    The silence ate the wind, until that a man posed behind them, manifested: “Who he thinks is he? In my election I do not want problems.” And the gods wrote on sand beach.