Читать книгу An Ash Ceiling - Gerardo D'Orrico - Страница 6

14.09.2007

“What you have to do, it's called the future .”

To understand a good you need to be enrolled friend, but from this you need to be alive, that is, awake not asleep, then the sequel. Sometimes I am surprised to find myself in the future that is today, looking at the technology that I find myself, thinking the future really comes. What you're fighting for sure you win, a first problem is always to be able to stay there too, bodily to see it. Everything is over, so begins the theory of a better life, packable, consumable, because we are finished and completed drawings, theories that impress our day. Primitive drawings that gave the beginning, are the trace of a door to the future, a door that eliminates time, that opens the mind to an instant, without the perception of pain or feeling.

A good thing really happens, the image of our dream comes true. Without time, history opens up, without envy or evils of any kind. Find a common language or create a software, the basis of a speech is built in more or less human realities, in the memory of having had ancestors. Art is not suffering but, a part of liberation, because after suffering, I never liked the discomfort, no dilemma in general, to begin with the complications are a disaster, we have done what was necessary at least once a day, if then by habit you organize yourself is alive in the year zero seven, you can trust invest, do not fool yourself with those ideas, it is true that they liberate.

When the water will be finished I will take leave of absence, we do not suffer at all cumulative, we do not lack anything, it is just a blasphemous illusion of the world, you have done everything trustworthy, there is not twice as much nothingness in a human unit, at most it will be a small abrasion, then only fantasy or depression, there are no people not compensated for the day, to think about it well will be a person or, an object close to us that understands what we lack, they want to take away our future, the future, what we will do, is just another way to make us die in their place. How many wars, then peace does not exist, you have a stopwatch to understand since when what will not be or, is never. Problems are death lines, not having is still death, words that cannot be used, are the death of thought. Places where they make us stay is you can't say it, because nobody will believe it anyway, a classic. You suddenly see who is evil, where no one can say they have been, there are no places where you have been that you cannot say.

Is the end the beginning? Bye, G.