They tell us some seers, with demons in the body, that the birds of prey from new lives will again rob the young man to an inevitable war of great people, who stinks to the middle age odors.
In a hasty time, which bears the memories and activates an explosive anger, we wondered, in vain, that the devil goes to the heads of men, who do not stop with the female truculence of the reaper of each other’s lives.
Who could think or admit that the 21st century would be called to the suffocation of the floors of hell, with the brutality of irrational aggressions so destructive of barbarism, that he went back to Earth with the fact and the tie of political shells.
Assaulted by the terror of the drumming of the drums, Europe already jumps to the mouth of the mouth, with the inevitable rearmament, to the disaster of war that insists on dismissing and pruning lives.
Civilized and barbaric, because of a patriotic disrespect not to go to war, they will meet again on the same trip without return. And history will be repeated, among predatory casino economies, which abuse us in compliance of the Russian roulette.
I, who know nothing about geopolitics and their striking multipolarities, vitamin only with the unforgettable school vomiting of cod liver oil, I wonder, enraged, if it would not have been better God to have done the Russian Ukrainians, so that they did not give themselves to the work of exterminating them.
I look at the Arabs and question if, in current contemporary hybridity, they could not have been born Jews and vice versa. Are they not children of a rugged “tadpole” journey with giant heads and thin tails that barely swim?
We have been so numb with our daily lives that we are strangely human. The television death of one or two individuals who, in Europe, topple for any stroke of a white weapon, blesses me, and pursues such a bastard barbarism. However, at the core of the great tragedies that, incessantly, are stacking the bodies of the victims, nor do I tell them to tell them.
I don’t know how these gravediggers, which make the earth a recess cemetery, can erase tracks and footprints, with such disastrous proportions for the lives that sweep from the map.
Perhaps they only knew peace as what it has always been, a simple measure, a mere lethargic phase of war. Perhaps we have never ceased to lift flags, continuing to help war with evocations of return to the sacred, feeling more security in it with the gods as an amulet.
The gods will always take care of not leaving men bare in their absolute barbarism. In this dying world, they continue to need to convene orthodox, biblical, chronic, although they present that the gods can only be pale and slaughtered with their people.
It will be necessary to invent new gods who, with a crash, are able to protect rare lands from evil eyes, who guarantee a apotheotic outcome of life, that avoid suffering with such uncertainty as that future predicative, which always insists on making life of a “eternal return.”
That said, these disarmed considerations are important to the value of human life if, despite everything, it is still possible to count on the warmth of the churches and, if, with a RIP here, another for there, men can continue to graft the rest of consciousness.
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