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What was all the more surreal absurd? "One extreme silence preceding the storm (storm undoubtedly would)? Or the noise I put the Italians in the thirty-five? Francisco, back to the door but through it with care, I wanted to be clear, once again, another day, as all day, the ideas that then have to explain, not the prophets of slavery with the Bible in his hand lashed minds to force the idiocy, but with the wisdom of the subtext and innuendo, he must rely on human intelligence in the human inclination towards science, to the tree of sin that condemned him to exile incarnate God that territory of boring, I needed the god of fools for their existence miserable. God was cruel and if there had to be eliminated: that he had said and this is what he said. Do you believe? Sure, I believed that someone more gifted than he had said he I thought because I had to believe, and that were not possible unless certain beliefs in a world where the explanation was in sight, not the ideas, so that he believed, because that was the idea. All men were equal, and none should be granted greater value: that was what he said that so wise, so enlightened, so for the rest of mankind. The ideas were nothing without the art. The matter was the beginning ... well, he believed, but knew and denied that any material act had been possible before without an idea behind it, any act or any idea, because what else was, after all, the good news that he carrying: an idea, a fact perfect idea, so perfect as men, equal to each other, independent groups would be unable to accept it, because men were imperfect perfect, perfect men were not equal had to match them with the example, had to show that was not just an idea that had a material fact and that fact materialized, if not her mind, with a well placed shot or a bomb (safer). But he could not attack anyone, had to be careful to select those who deserve it, but all were equal and probably all or none were liable to get shot: they had to target those who said they were different based on equality of rights proclaimed from the ideas and ideals, to those who believe and did believe different, those were to be selected and not others, equal and human, humanly equal. In these and other to fuck off.
Was violence necessary? The wise man said yes, but did not say it openly, but sideways, as if allowed to come but it takes the idea, hiding in some excuse; materializing in any idea, you might say. It was necessary to noise, and should be as powerful as the other, as the silent cry of the Cross, because today could be heard, and as it now, that of thirty-five, men and women relying on the Cross.
Why was forced to turn away, if you kept some respect to that bloody boy who suffered there, yet the nails? For while it did not believe a God, was, yes, the living image of God would have liked, the example of the will, the coherence of a life marked by the rebellion of the senses, spiritual preponderance insurance claims over terrestrial, though he was wrong, so confident as to hold his word until the moment of his death, faith, belief in their beliefs ... That Christ bearded, blond hair and blue eyes, this man other men of his people but the only really well, that image emblazoned on a poster on a cross, bloodied and scourged, that image was that of a man, a saint, but ... Was it for ...? Why
admired him even when he was forced to give his back? Maybe because he saw it suffering the same pain that he wished to avoid ... avoided. That man, the Christ of the Christians was like him and like yours, someone willing to die for your ideas ... his problem and his error was not meant to kill, people looking for something rather than words, people are fearful he had proclaimed king, and he understood before anyone else that the people did not need a new king, but a reborn awareness of people, humanity, respect ... Some respect I kept that poor crucified Christ, but I could not forget his resignation, abandonment, surrender to error. In the end, Francisco loved him and thought, but I thought wrong ...
... and this I think almost two thousand years later ...
... noise, noise powerful ....
... As it's thirty-five.
called. Nineteen
He looks, he knows he looks, turns and looks at him steadily. There's the moon, again on Antonio, but not the old Moon, it has a different face, the hidden, more beautiful perhaps. Or is that again looks better? Esperanza opens a hole, you can glimpse the path that is reborn. There is the moon, and the way the moon in the sky, the road on Earth. Antonio has traveled similar paths, has traveled to aspire to the top, and has arrived, and fell at the feet of a new path. Learn about the causes and suffered the consequences so many times, but the forgotten, or wanted to forget and is now ready to resume the march, almost like a child, almost untouched, almost stripped of bad experiences. Hope looks at him, he knows he looks, and the spoils, so excited, I harangue with his eyes, it is no longer flying, because under his feet the trail has been formed and is ready to go, sure that target awaits the new moon. The boat sways imperceptibly, the sound of the sea leg opening at the bow caresses the senses, numb, wrapped in his breath as coffee, biscuits hard as rocks, snuff bitter. Hope looks at him, he knows he looks, but his eyes seem entertaining in his right hand operation Lucio, who with one hand movement extends the role, place the strands and bundle the second cigarette. Cares little cigarette Lucio, Lucio smoke thrown on the table so that the curtain divide and highlight the absence, his absence, not Anthony, I would like to run downhill, or uphill, or flat, or any land on which to extend this new way, because he knows it, without doubt, this time it is the one leading to the Moon. Luna still, witness, moody, who arrives and leaves little by little, and nothing is allowed, the black, unlike the Sun, which must be reborn daily, he is the sun, Antonio felt blood in his veins yellow radiant light, he is the sun, it needs the moon to shine, the road crosses the Earth, ungrateful planet ridiculous name, should not be called water? Yes, Water, and should be called ... He is the Sun, is the fire from the air, and she is the moon, overlooking the sea, the Earth is deception, the wrong item, it extends way, a repeated error, it lies in Antonio, ready to gnaw distances without fear of being wrong ...
knocking at the door.
Chapters Twenty, Twenty Twenty and
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