- Mrs., it passes two bombs there.
They are two transparent sacks of plastic. Very visible capital letters jump: Bad Whiskey. 43% volume. Fast, they spilled the drink for the stomach tunnel. The lyricism invaded them. They unstuck more two sacks that capsized. The repressed desires extravasated.
- Shit shovel! This shit is too much!
- Prostitute that gave birth to him!
- Hum, if somebody me annoying, we will be killed!
- He pleases me a pistol shot!
- Me also!
- We will toast!
The words skimmed buccal us before quiet servants of the strange goods. The insolence confused them.
- Ó lady, pumps more two. We paid tomorrow.
- Are they already admired, destabilized, the eyes… won't they reassure the company?
- I want there to know of the company!
- We will lean in the fourth world of the past, in the present, without future.
My last ones follow the habitual rhythmic rhythm of the fight continues… of singing of José Afonso:
Ó cheerful singer
What is of your happiness?
You have so much to walk
And the night is so cold
Moral degeneration is seen as inevitable in the absence of social control’s against greed and competition. William Golding
The man learned how to dominate, to worsen, it tied the Nature. He judged her as a bank of limitless bottoms. Drafts, drafts to lost bottoms. Finally he abandoned her, he got divorced, and he doesn't want to love her. The Nature dominates the man, he appears in her as harmful plant. He is the plus, it is not part of the it equips. God created the men for diversion. He smiled, sells them be exterminated with the weapons that everyday invent. With hypocrisy invented the hope, the continuous wait of the death. They say loaded of deep cruelty that is her finishes thing that remains. It is the cruelty without limits. They kill and later they regret the deads.
Oh, this longing, this sadness of the whiteness of the lost Nature.
For something so many sophisticated instruments, she are enough to observe ants to foresee the asperities of the time that in the it doesn't calm us.
I misunderstand reason the human beings are always very busy. It lacks them time to observe a tree.
The religions are passed, nothing else has to unsay, and we have that substituting for those that love the Nature.
The boast very powerful: will we work, to live, to live together daily with the hypocrisy and the swindle? It is not possible cruelty like this! We have to refute, to return to the habit, to rescue the insolvency of our survival. To struggle before the evening. The cleaning of soul of the Nature periodically destroys the men. It saves some to resume the cycle of leaving the circus to catch fire. The elements of the Nature become aware: "suddenly they retake the multiplication, a never ends, they will harass, to commit the previous atrocities filed in the déjà-vu. All is enough, we put an end to them."
Image: Angola em fotos
They are two transparent sacks of plastic. Very visible capital letters jump: Bad Whiskey. 43% volume. Fast, they spilled the drink for the stomach tunnel. The lyricism invaded them. They unstuck more two sacks that capsized. The repressed desires extravasated.
- Shit shovel! This shit is too much!
- Prostitute that gave birth to him!
- Hum, if somebody me annoying, we will be killed!
- He pleases me a pistol shot!
- Me also!
- We will toast!
The words skimmed buccal us before quiet servants of the strange goods. The insolence confused them.
- Ó lady, pumps more two. We paid tomorrow.
- Are they already admired, destabilized, the eyes… won't they reassure the company?
- I want there to know of the company!
- We will lean in the fourth world of the past, in the present, without future.
My last ones follow the habitual rhythmic rhythm of the fight continues… of singing of José Afonso:
Ó cheerful singer
What is of your happiness?
You have so much to walk
And the night is so cold
Moral degeneration is seen as inevitable in the absence of social control’s against greed and competition. William Golding
The man learned how to dominate, to worsen, it tied the Nature. He judged her as a bank of limitless bottoms. Drafts, drafts to lost bottoms. Finally he abandoned her, he got divorced, and he doesn't want to love her. The Nature dominates the man, he appears in her as harmful plant. He is the plus, it is not part of the it equips. God created the men for diversion. He smiled, sells them be exterminated with the weapons that everyday invent. With hypocrisy invented the hope, the continuous wait of the death. They say loaded of deep cruelty that is her finishes thing that remains. It is the cruelty without limits. They kill and later they regret the deads.
Oh, this longing, this sadness of the whiteness of the lost Nature.
For something so many sophisticated instruments, she are enough to observe ants to foresee the asperities of the time that in the it doesn't calm us.
I misunderstand reason the human beings are always very busy. It lacks them time to observe a tree.
The religions are passed, nothing else has to unsay, and we have that substituting for those that love the Nature.
The boast very powerful: will we work, to live, to live together daily with the hypocrisy and the swindle? It is not possible cruelty like this! We have to refute, to return to the habit, to rescue the insolvency of our survival. To struggle before the evening. The cleaning of soul of the Nature periodically destroys the men. It saves some to resume the cycle of leaving the circus to catch fire. The elements of the Nature become aware: "suddenly they retake the multiplication, a never ends, they will harass, to commit the previous atrocities filed in the déjà-vu. All is enough, we put an end to them."
Image: Angola em fotos
Sem comentários:
Enviar um comentário