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Dos

No hay vida mejor que esta dicen algunos, no hay pena peor que aquella.

Encontrando el sentido nauseabundo de mis mundanos placeres me encuentro hoy frente alo que siempre he querido tener, frente a lo que toda mi vida he deseado y que ahora se encuentra tan nítido ante mí, que necesito alejarme un poco para poder verlo un poco más claro. No voy a hacer que lo que mis instintos me dictan porque mis instintos me han deseado.

Hoy dejamos de ser vida, de ser muerte, de vivir en un espíritu, de juzgar y de desear. No pensamos porque los instintos nunca nos llevaron a eso y no medimos porque no es parte de nuestra naturaleza. Somos carne en un cuerpo, somos placeres escondidos y somos enigmas no descifrados. Somos tacto, somos gusto y somos sonido. Somos silencio y somos sabores, somos rápido, somos lento… somos dos.



En momentos en donde ponerse nervioso se ha vuelto nuevamente un factor

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