"We have not wanted to, but it happened: fracture, broken bones.
We have not sought, but has come: the end, inglorious,
of those who are still forced
-in one way or another- to disappear.
like a ghost. "
E 'enough for a clear, metallic, cold moment: all the" his "new place.
Stroke Terry, again a total black sea, an ocean-sterile-cleansed of all imperfections.
Falls acid overwhelm my life.
All the memories, all the moments of joy, laughter cakes are nothing but smoke.
Today it was decided, one way or another, my fate and I am a happy boy.
Today I fought for my right to study.
peace is forgotten, you forget all sorts of "sacrifice": this rosy flesh now torn, illusions, even the sweetest, burn with it.
I are nothing more than the dumb slave of Fate, my primary seed, nothing I can do that change the fate of a Life.
Invisible will be in your eyes, without of every drop of love, like air
daily parade in front of your city,
in front of your existence, waiting for the moments of happiness.
prudent man rule is to abandon the things that drop, that is, do not wait to be a star at sunset.
Baltasar Gracian y Morales , Oracle and manual art of prudence , 1647
-LXVIII-
(Geist)
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