In Angola they feel prisoners political accused of any crime. They say that it is a democratic regime that it is in the middle of the joy of their functions. The democratic potencies close the eyes and they point that it is like this that it is good, that it is like this that it is made the stability in Africa. Here is the income of the terrorism of which Europe is not gotten to loosen. Who supports the corruption and their dictatorships, in the bottom it is also terrorist without the knowledge.

terça-feira, 21 de julho de 2009

The Epic poem of the Darkness (13)

Omar Bongo's successor is her son. And in Angola?

Everything became pregnant for us to sadden ourselves. From the most microscopic to the most gigantic and an incessant fight for the survival in the Universe happens. To obtain energy, as soon as the solar light appears, it is the race in the search of something to eat. It is worth everything, because the animal species, the stars, the planets, the galaxies, pursue what gives them the life. Some struggle in the daytime other at night. Twenty-four hours without eternity, the fight for the survival wakes up, alert.

The alive surge of the life of the waves of the sea that pursues us. Colliding constant with the sand of the margins that cyclic comes undone, and later they return to the normality without human intervention. The Nature accomplishes her destiny, the human being alters it, it adulterates it. As revenge, the sea appeals for their companions in earth, and it spills her fury against the one that dare challenge him. It was like this, it will be like this. The aleive to the death is characteristic of the humans. Cruel destiny without exit. To be born, not to live.

That misfortune enough interesting. The talent that the humans conserve from the ancestry. They don't forget him never. The mortal morbidity that they conserve in their genes. The kept order, disguised, hidden, that it is always to the peep in the window of their minds, that of her leaves to kicks: to kill, to kill, to kill! It is not resulted, the alternative of the hypocrisy jumps, that changes in the uselessness of the lie. Before this truth, the slander comes, that gives life to the hate, to the cruelty. To court this acme, to affirm in face of the winners, to deceive his unhealthy mind, it eliminates with the death, those that they gave him the projection for the pedestals of the life. This is the genetic subjection, the saga of the due ones. Deadly sharks that annihilate the Road.

This continuous path nobody gets to stop. Astute mice in the silence of the nights. If more obscure better. Shadows dissembling prophetical are born of their dreams, of the nights in that they didn't sleep. The crowds proceed in the stupids, they adore us, they are immolated at the altar invented already. Sad horizon of the human camouflage. To live to adore, the hunger to sow.
It is not alone war and hunger that it exists in the intervals of the soccer-art.

A thing that I saw and I never understood. The people almost spend the whole time of their lives for us to get any thing to eat. This doesn't make sense, it is absurd. Nobody that she respect would be born, to live like this so unhappy.
Which is the alternative?

Machines that make any work exist. Be ordained that the humans should obey to the spiritual things. To workout and to develop the mind. Daily, at least once, to breathe bottom, to relax, to close the eyes and not to think in anything during one minute. For beginning, that is extraordinary. Our brain thinks day and night, it is enough to stop one minute for the mind to rest.

It is contrary to the life to be born, to grow, and to work to increase the wealth of half dozen that they enslave there are us many milleniums. The work in the factories, everything that it is work, should finish immediately. We will put an end to the buildings, with the asphalt highways, with the canned foods, with the plastics, with the petroleum. We will plant trees, plants, to clean the seas, the rivers, the forests and to live in agreement with the laws of the Nature.

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