( May 26, 2011)
A fish comes out .
it is the nation of the out comers .
a holocaust of injuries comes by to ensure endurance of the remaining wisdom,
the wisdom of the fake .
and the fake is a blank conspiracy forwarded to a mass of shoulders aiming to hold on compensating strategies .
the false remains .
because when we see we think we dont .
sounds are registered .
it is an invaded alterity .
the fluid is handled for micro seconds i wish it could more ,
remaining and persuing time and the movement of a surface .
we are aliens . aliens do not die .
aliens are seen from the back and the face remains an unknown player for the sake of the play .
i heard those sounds too , he taught me none .
i went throught his atoms i smelled each particle of the particle seeking light and the aroma,
there in that womb of things i was vibrating from the sound of an unheard shake .
i have a noname urgency .
the shutter has a speed .a micro speed .
i remain hidden in those dark greys.
a swift to a butterfly .