Alive those
moments, as if they were the last ones, of the only to hear the soft lost
chords of a piano, as if a very rainy afternoon pursued me. Does it seem that
we don't know, or did we fake, what everything the one what in the fence of
sadness also fills with joy, that little or does he swim remains already of our
longings? My God! As we are so colonized again! Because we hoped anybody frees
us and again do enslave us? Because we didn't free ourselves?
To hear the
murmur of coiling of the water of a creek, sweet, sad, as sliding of the
fingers in the keys of a piano of the lost Freedom, spoiled. It is this the
sonority of the fortress of the Freedom that moves us, it encourages us.
Everything
consumes energy, the Freedom also, it just awaits for our energy, so that it
wakes up of the sleep artificial, heavy.
Image: ...
us. The story is an examination of different cultural and artistic ...
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