These hands writing not me when I smile, even when I pretend indifference or admiration. This is my true self, my self more obscure and impenetrable. Notice how it has come to stay, how I live skinning to emerge, snatching the mask imposed by others. Only now I am somebody. Only now deserve to live, and want to grow up, I want my legs to the top drive, I hear the jingle of my skull against the roof of the sky. Since there is no boat or plane. There are no travel. Just me with my dreams and aspirations. In two pages of Word I could destroy me to be reborn with more power, I have grown a foot, or maybe I have collapsed even more, but I'm satisfied with my status change, as there is movement in me. But I'm still a static being, a being who needs the security to handle the day to day, to spare him as placebo the power balance on the seat of your desktop a dark day like today. A dark day like him. A dark day as the music going through my eardrums to shake the brain waves of pleasure, ecstasy in its purest form, altered consciousness, source of colors and feelings, shocks of pure amber. For once the bud begins to open to explode with passion. To make public their stamina, so that wasps and killer bees suck my whole being to dry out and die, to become one with the asphalt in order to pay another mind pure, a mind that does not cease to be another step towards the supreme being A link in the evolutionary chain. The antlers of a helicopter I trephining the senses and as a tea calms my thirst for blood. I want to tear muscles and tendons to these dogs that gave me an evil God. That same ribs tore his toys. He wants to return them, but I'm not going to obey their designs.
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