You stop at the page. Life does not exist. Your words. They stand in a state of attention. Your order is not heard. History can wait. Breathe as much as you need.

You stop at the page. Life does not exist. Your words. They stand in a state of attention. Your order is not heard. History can wait. Breathe as much as you need.
One step away. To stand on the wet ground. Summer rain watered her. You inhale. Perfume of paradise.
The days are blooming fertilized by dreams. You take care of the eyes of the heart. To stay open. For your garden to grow big. To hide the ugly things.
In another gear. You carry Cross and dreams. Scary freedom. You know new frontiers. You beat time.
Stopped. You lose the count. Chapters open. Doors are open around you. You’re dreaming.
As if you were born yesterday.
The great adventure of life. A labyrinth full of lost people. The decision to find the exit. You ask for it. You give for it. Without measuring things every time times. Look around you. The nature. Its bid. It persists in a hostile human environment to offer. It’s a lesson to the barbarians passing by. Doomed to desecrate it become absorbed into an eternal defeat. It’s the inexorable arithmetic. The faith in the ephemeral power. Down to the drain of the valuable balance of the world. You are a simple voyager struggling to be present. It’s this point that you don’t pick your enemies. Your enemies are like the ballast that grows as much as your trip lengthens.

The image is missing. A repeating test. You count the victories. Looking for a way to withstand.

Revelation. Divine command. A mortal distillate of wisdom. One word. Love.
Lost. You look. Indifferently the images are changing. War. You are not compromised with your convenience. You don’t count. Unwritten memory. No mercy for life.

Endless information. Theories make geometry on it. Pictures you don’t ask to get. Theatrical reports of narcissistic announcers. You know. Love is missing.