"I could have chosen the silence, but not. Same if for me is complicated to live in a world with which I don't agree: a world that justifies the unjustifiable in favor of alleged victims, but it is actually part of the discours in behalf of the ambition supported by fear and hate. I understand Zweig, Kafka and Kundera, then, the hopelessness is from a lot of years ago. It is not possible to leave a day as today: between the magic and the not important date because tomorrow the depts and the work follows the motor of the civilisation. If the tag of slave or not exits, it doesn't matter. There are not sufficient time to think or to be unhappy. In the next weekend is possible to take a minute to think about it, before a drink. After the sex. The web of a modern life, days chosen by humans has completely covered the tree of life. A beautiful tree of other humans missing and forgotten by citizens.
However the sadness, it is not a question of suicide. No. Change a world in words and paints, same if the acts are not sufficient and of course, for the privileged people, the option to leave is real. Tonight the dead people are classified as good dead and bad dead: the true is that all were killed. And at the end, with all the distrust, people will hate each other more. The time for alliances and love is finish and the nations is a collection of selected murders and lucky believers but fear and alone. She knows her rights to feel desired. In her loneliness, seeing the city in fear in a Sunday's night, she decide to traverse the body with her fingers and photograph herself. Place her body in darkness public and she feel desired. A lonely and intimate state without orgasm but necessary to resit the silence and this built world by men. How she missed feeling them, however she took a public side and in the pleasure search, the lesbian acts were not enough. It's tragic. She didn't feel consolation or pleasure.
A stock market and timed world. Benefits and privileges to be different and free with the correct style of life: a state in the social worldwide network. But a weekend or a trip is not sufficient for desired stories and likes. And as Today, the ways are boring and it is evident to read in any way the same life: numbers, profit and old stories of pleasure and love. His age had allowed him to sleep without make sex at the moment with he slept with a drunk woman in the same bed without real desire. -Real desire? - said his friend with a laugh of disbelief. In fact, always, as good poet, I looked for fantastic words for the obvious. A romantic. -Yes. - He answer to him with unusual security in his words. Why more explanations or rejoinder? His friend said nothing more. Together, with a second drink of vodka they watched the stripper dancer who approached them: a beautiful woman. Nude after the show. They both thought that she didn't need to speak. Just the music (not bad really) and her beauty.
Outside, the city was irregular to be a Sunday. Contaminated by the fantasy to be part of a country that usurped the name of an entire continent, its inhabitants didn't care about its past or the future. A future without them but the hope of being one of the called to live there. The night is not a time for the minority and may be tomorrow in a dysfunctional but justified act they will be killed. Likewise, they have already been segregated and the death will only matter to artists. Inside the minds, its sure that another world exits. Genetic, common sense, feelings and reflexions due to the processing of the information, help build a vision. May be, the common vision to revolutionize the human existence, however in a comfort world the revolution is a damn word. And with that curse the mankind accept to live.
A city to leave is more easy that a world. It is the magic of absence and the possibility to find the lost dreams written in another pages and in the way, the fantastic option to meet other dreamers and lonely people to reach the common vision. But always the humans want to tell the story fo the original neighbors. Sometimes like a song. And for this reason, the romantics return. He thought about her all day. Her words and her breasts. The brightness of her eyes and the sound of her breathing the times when they are close. Desire and admiration to attend complicity and the unknown factor. The magic number to open a closed box with feelings with a safe lock of reflexions, fears and reality. However, the lecture is simple in both senses: he thinks about her."
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