Metalanguage of the invisible
'm the invisible man, I can not recognize and disappear. I fight with all my strength to hold me and my movements are kept on land, not disappear. Something happens to the heat radiated by the sun, with the moonlight. My nervous system is altered and I slowly evaporated in the evening or during the day. It's like going out and staying inside. This time I disconnected from the outside. I do not get to have some certainty about my movements and my sympathies. I'm cool about this or that situation. And the impossibility carries me and takes me away from here and now. Disappear as those abandoned, both hate, seem to be right with all his hatred of humanity. It's a feeling that rushes to the future, the past, confused.
I'm the new paradigm for science is not yet explain this phenomenon. My senses pass through a maze of ancient stories. Become acute sounds, words flow from my tongue, the look becomes elusive and my skin feels doubly any human approach. Thoughts come to a strange place to my mind. Arcane ideas about the first man standing in the universe.
All forces in the opposite direction. A pensamiento choca con otro. El viento influye de manera decisiva. Todos los esfuerzos tienden a desvanecer lo sólido. Entro en un plano nuevo, donde no puedo dar marcha atrás. Y tengo que mantener el equilibrio y ser el más dispuesto a los cambios.
Saber absorber la energía y retirarte antes del calentamiento. Dar sin exageración. Sentir la tristeza de tanta derrota humana, y su misma fuerza. Porque la tristeza es ancla en esta zona de turbulencia. La razón pura se desvanece y se necesita la tristeza para sobrevivir este periodo. En este plano existen pausas contemplativas que te permiten ver al otro; porque la razón te empuja al siguiente pensamiento and then you're doubly scattered.
So as soon as I change happens fisiosensorialgenético, scenarios where traffic suddenly changed: Now I'm walking on a road and the sun sets on my back. A car is on it's side and the sea, and rain hit my back. A look back the clouds and a cloud evaporates almost white on my back. Me I like the clouds evaporated. An old man greeted on the road. An old man walks with pain in his knees. 75 years and his bones ache, but keeps a smile. I'm not there. I'm transported to another scenario Cirrocumulus ...
On the phenomenon, initiated some say is the voice of hypogeous primordial sacred, others unconscious, God. No one looks really, although everyone looks: it is a feeling that materializes. It all started one day far away now. Any reference salt has a determining influence in the secret formula for invisibility. I remember the beach and the photos of your child's waterfront evaporating with the salty breeze. No one could interpret this strange signal. Only my grandmother knew the mystery and took him to the grave forever. Now obsolete machine address this scribe of the eighteenth century, the exploratory research metaescritura postponed all my plans and implanted at the expense of my seriousness.
descend from the heights of Cirrocumulus a scenario that is not the city. It is a waste of space with shells on the seashore. There are traces of ancient life, where hunters came to eat shellfish. But I hear a voice that tells me a story, silence, tells me that "your heroes, your past have died. Only you and your shadow they live. You must stay near the sea. " I can see that on the surface, the swirling foam. Sound stops my pulse, my heart beats with regular frequency. A dolphin stretching his gray fin. Sounds a whole flare after a long pause introducing new organisms swarming and whistles neutral. They crawl shells, the wind blows the foam, the wail of whales, the flapping of fish, bubbles intermittent, deep breaths, wet salt, crackling of rocks, lava condensed natural acoustics, incendiary and imprisonment. I dipped my feet caused extensive sense of being alive. At the top, a cactus seen at that point all the other leagues stitching large area. When I turn, filter the moon and the sun looks in his retirement a more human decency than ever. The mystery of the intimate nature wise. My own nature leads me know and I repel ...
I write these reports to scientists, much praise the metalanguage of the invisible, but do not give a real explanation for this disease. I do not know when to end this very unfortunate situation for me. Right now I'm in the last quarter of the house where the sun gives me squarely in the back and leave of my body some steam I see by the disk mirroring holding in my hands and I listen.
Scientists have assured me that I'll never disappear completely, that is, that I will always return, and the more control of my energy has movement you make will be entirely under my control.
rains and the sun is nice evaporate the rain from the street. Conscious awakens me a resounding blow: If you are my senses, if my desires, whether the ideas ... If forgotten, if the rain if the sun if the moon, if light, ifs ... The promise of your lips, I'll keep dreaming. But I'll evaporated and the Cirrocumulus.
0 comments:
Post a Comment