The poverty forces what was dropped by any reason die, in any unexpected place, without right the medical aid and social. The pedestrians, unnailed of humanism - but, who does only think about money, does he have time for these things? Until they call him of crazy! - Tired of the vicious death they scream automatically: He died! He died! - In the time of the Romans it was: he lived! He lived! - The victim he lays in the ground indefinitely abandoned. It is the daily life of the concentration oilfields of the Golf of Guinea.
The new convoy will pass. It will be faster than the other than existed. They got up protection walls. The residents for us to circulate have to jump them, the funerals also. Children without conservation instinct take advantage the evening and they defecate at the summit of the walls. The residents climb and they seat the unpleasant hands. It was oasis for thieves. For the uneasiness the safeties receive extra, they make money in the people.
The History is not stopped thing, it is moved. New discoveries appear. What today is a revolutionary discovery, the other day no longer it is it.
Families live her to the dew. The nobility Politburo steals lands and he manufactures Somalia’s cottages to build small palaces, palaces, with the abundance of the incomes of the petroleum. What is in the he shouts, in the fashion, they are the condominiums. Opened inside, in the occultism on the outside.
The primitive ones had caves, the presents not even that dislodged have. The onlookers approach in the custom subjective. They are interrogated that maybe is a circus of horses dispersed.
- The street your new house is?
- The Politburo broke us the houses, they stole us the lands and always so forth.
- They will complain in the human rights.
- He doesn't give brother, those when they speak the Politburo threaten us, they arrest us, they kill us. And that he would be ahead that? Laughter’s and paper work no dispatched.
- It is leprosy contagious Politburo! Be exiled!
- Yes… we are going to the Indian, to some to be seen slaves' merchant in the purchase.
I returned to the sea, it wakes up for dimensional wave that it balanced the embarkation. I held myself well. The sailors nor for that, in the calms, insensitive to the waves. Sensitive speakers, don't get tired. Ulysses tacks:
- The dirty money civilizes us. He is the owner of the world, boss of the contemporary civilization. Before they devastated, they killed, they decimated, and they enslaved the ancestors. Until that it finishes… when nothing doesn't remain….
Before he forgot, I introduced a clue:
Image: Angola em fotos