A miracle, an accident or a curse?
¡Mmh! I rather magic, no matter the answers, I wish I could find the question.
All my way I’ve been touched by death, I feel her in the first ray of moonlight and this sort of existentialism, I have felt oppress, she has made me weep, think and live my life in a special way, ´cause I feel her close, ´cause is hard to escape from consciousness.
Sometimes we live planning to build an empire, as if we could be that part of population which will live an average age; eighty years…, in fact a hundred years is nothing, eighty years and still a kid, we will never grow up, knowledge is so immeasurable that in our decrepitude we won’t have learned enough, eighty years and still a creature trapped in a strange body, sick and alone, solitaire of the world, a garbage to the youth.
Thinking about time is such a waste of time!, there will be one day of the whole perpetuity when nobody will remember us, when ourselves will be just as this old ancient soldier of medieval battles, who was buried in the most dark shadow of the farther horizon in the coldest land of earth, where no human being has lie on ever, just forgotten, a complete nobody in the kingdom of nowhere; but meanwhile we are here, suffering, singing, having a big headache and laughing, weeping and dancing, sneezing and drinking a cold beer. Cheers for that! : )
Inspired on “Manual de autoayuda/12”-Mauricio Carrera.
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