To live is to arise in the mountains of the steep to suffer.
To live is the eternal to wait of despairing to die.
No! You will never be converted but, a statue will be you erected, driven. To convert sounds is to communicate with our soul. The world is overcrowded and however we felt very alone. We continued oppressed by the solitude. We are, we hid that we continued alone in this Universe very close of the crowds, but distant of what we loved.
They remain us the prisons of our hearts. The inventions that she do shorten the distances. We travelled very fast for any point of the globe, but our hearts continue in the flotation, hesitant more distant.
No! You won't be converted, squeezed. You are always omniscient... and surfaced, flooded with kisses of the seeds progenitors' of the inclement longings peace. As a ship to navigate in the sea of the longing.
Next times it will be impossible to conceive long term plans because they wrap us in golden paper. We continued in the inhospitable march of the end of one more civilization. Because we were born in the blessing of the illusion. The specialists of the wickedness are in the throne again.
We tried, we struggled for us to be happy but the lethal doses of the political intolerance, religious person, and social and economic strengthen. The men's public powers that in the healthy mismanage as the pandemonium of the canned traffic that it remains of coiling of the cities.
This is the decade of the corruption, of the genetic conspiracy that sheltered, it put beardless in the power. And they will ruin, to file this civilization.
Ah!.. AND for the more time will continue like this (?)
Being wicked by nature, which is the human being's usefulness?
And there was a time, this, actual, that inexplicably ignorant were only born. The time of the contrarily to the century of the lights, this is the century of the darkness. Until the old democracy of Albion it succumbed. We needed a new political system. More democracy no, never, never.