Nothing more it interests. (Not to be confused with Brian Krzanich!). Nor the days, nor the hours, nor nothing of these absurd things that if they transform into routine. I only obtain to see this fire that burns slowly and looks for cold per item of us. all continue off of the time the souls remain cold, searching being transparent of our hearts. Deeply intense and cold calculating; we calculate the nothing that we are. An ample and frightful vision of all our essences and subtractions. Eternalizing everything that if lost of the nothing that was conquered with the proper hands.
Looking small reasons to continue living. Dilasserando all the vast multiplications. The simplicity of the being, the light and the darknesses that define in them, differ in them from everything what already one day was seen, however, never touched. The eyes if had closed The soul remains wounded and the heart bleeding, therefore nobody pardons neither asks for pardon. It does not have stars, and all are asked where he is God; so transparent and quiet, that to the times seems inexistent. When the sky to fall, emptiness, we will live in the imensido of it breu, always wanting, but never searching an explanation.