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I imagine the devil, death wondering. ... And tell me boy, what is what causes you pleasure?

Understanding what happens then think about the nature of hell.

I'm not suggesting that hell exists, I just try to say that, if it exists, its nature should consist primarily in the embodiment of several very obvious ideas, and documented, of course. The nature of hell must be formed first, from everlasting. But more importantly than that, eternity must be accompanied by several other things. be mentioned later.

For now let's try the concept of our hell examining possible responses to the question of the devil. What causes you pleasure? You may typically respond:

1. I like sex (Mea Culpa)
I like food
2. (Mea Culpa)
3. I like to sleep (Mea Culpa)

In the first case we will automatically appear the victim in the act intercourse with a partner exceptionally beautiful. No talk of sex but it's creative, sometimes necessary, traditional in-out. The victim will feel an indescribable pleasure when you feel that your senses are developed in ways unimaginable hell. Every smell, every feeling resound in their sex and their consciousness almost burned. Everything will be infinite pleasure ... ..

In the second case a delicacy comes into your hands as you lie in bed, you head into your mouth and eat all of it. The incredible dimensions renewed flavors melt your soul with an extraordinary joy. Your stomach receives the food is filling, but not tired of getting ... ...

dream comes over in the third option, you sleep a deep sleep and your consciousness is lost it impossible to depths, but deep down you are aware of the pleasure of sleep, you think, you dream about as you please, you are king of your own dream, you're still a god. You are, after all, a new soul in hell and God the devil knows that the new should be treated with the respect they deserve ... ..

So it all begins in Hell, we might ensure that it is not at all hell. Of course, after a few years maybe sex, food and sleep in these conditions start to become pure drudgery.

The monotony soon becomes alienated.

The despair invades the victim, she tries to shed their own hell of pleasure, but can not. Is tied to his torment, and that's where the devil decides to wait several more decades. Then speed up time. The pace of in-out now lasts milliseconds, and the awareness of concerned is not capable of understanding. Despair is now just the prelude to the madness. Sex: only one thing that the body is required to make as fast a machine viscosities composed of muscles and trembling so uncontrollable. On the other hand, the dream continues. The victim tries to escape from its fog, but is forced to remain motionless. Pounding in the silence, centuries.

Obviously hell respects the unity of consciousness, but not the body. The body can unfold and multiply. Imagine that while meeting with their pleasure-torture of the victim is granted, hundreds of years after his first treatment, a new body. A life event is chosen. Did it ever any shame, public humiliation. That event is now replicated in his new body. In this humiliation, perhaps, the boys at school make fun of the victim, their defects. That event marked him as a teenager and is now offered as a simultaneous torture. But no, it does not take effect, we would say. Now you have this other problem that haunts pleasure (sex, food, sleep). So, what can affect you that little last humiliation, now that you are an adult, and he is dead, and having this other problem of infinite food passes through your throat and your mouth numb?. But years pass and the time is crystallized in eternity. It is no longer strong enough to endure the humiliation, the laughter of his colleagues are so and rhythmic sounds of his breathing during sleep, or the outputs of growths on their genitals. Wear their psychic defenses. The voices of the crowd jeering at his head to the beat of a metronome insane. Requests that all end badly.

may after another of their bodies, is tormented with another event, the head of his father over his mouth will be repeated again at their own pace: Pun Pun Pun Pun Pun Pun Pun Pun Pun, again and again. All the painful events of his life be repeated. All at once, all manifold. a dance in a circle that never ends.

Millennia later while, eating, sleeping and while having sex, will be consumed by fire. A serrated knife will be buried in his ass, again and again every segundo.Pero everything very slowly. Between each new torture centuries pass, the devil does not want to overwhelm your senses. Quite the contrary. Interested to feel everything as perfect as possible. You will provide all necessary body, while your conscience gets all these sensations highly differentiated and lilting.

Sooner or later the devil stick with consciousness itself. Begin to feel emotions very well chosen. Depression, psychosis, fear. There will be no place in your mind where you hide. Your multiple bodies in the meantime will be attacked by new sensations that are repeated and unrelieved. Remember passing centuries between one thing and another. I guess the devil with a checklist detailing the torture to come for the thousands of millions of residents of their home, and yet full of laziness eons pass in his chair .... Well, you have to leave enough time, and although not believe in hell time makes sense.

You realize, too late, that these multiple bodies are one, that all these penalties come together in a single thing of flesh composed of multiple dimensions. By then the food will no longer have taste and become the shit. Your throat is sore and your stomach filled with gas and indigestible junk.

'll sleep, but you will be aware of how your body is rotting and insects living take over all slit your face. But you'll be asleep.

Your sex will not support the punishment and begin to ooze and skinned, but will be tied to your jerky and infinite in-out. You endure cramps and pains and there will be. With your lustful indeterminate sex partner moaning with pleasure, and even her moans will be intolerable while penetrating or leave penetrate vomit on your body. But then will force you to swallow your own vomit while sleeping.

Of course, like sex, food and sleep. Let's see what you think about it all the time in grotesque proportions, for all eternity. Feel all at the same time: sex, humiliation, pain, fear, laceration, depression, fuck, blow, finger in the ass, throbbing headache, heard simultaneously by a single oil spill you, there will be violated by an elephant, you cry the most terrible humiliation, hear the voice of your enemy smiling and decibel sound impossible shatters your eardrums, and so on. ... ... Over the centuries forget you were once human. Everything will be as a two-tone music that repeats: t Ra Ra ta ta ta Ra Ra Ra ta ta ta Ra Ra Ra ta ta ta Ra Ra Ra ta ta ta Ra Ra Ra ta ta ta Ra Ra Ra ta ta Ra Ra Ra ta ta ta ta Ra Ra Ra ta ta ta Ra Ra Ra ta ta ta Ra Ra Ra Ra ta ta ta Ra Ra Ra Ra Ra Ra ta ta ta Ra Ra Ra Ra Ra Ra ta ta Ra ... ...

can not yet describe hell as we wish to present. The language fails to conceive the multiplicity, that boredom and that repetition.

But all I have now are stupid words. Metaphors of decadent human industry, so you'll have to suffice.

Ennui and Repetition. Fundamental concepts to understand the idea of \u200b\u200ba hell in eternity, for eternity only the formal framework, sand, possible. But of course, no metaphysical sentimentality with hell. The Greeks had already said everything and just need to upgrade your legacy. To hell with the story that hell is away from God, or is a state of mind. own stupid new age of Christian (which began with John Paul II (God rest his soul, for his hell begin, at his request, with a swarm of butterflies line stroking the perineum)), and within months I imagine scientists, priests and pastors deal, arguing that Hell is a quantum state of matter where the function wave collapses "the way is not" (translate to the reader ignorant: "It's all about perspective ... what a shame you ).

I do not believe in hell, I find the idea of \u200b\u200bburlesque, too mammalian servile. But if hell exists, I can not imagine it otherwise. Stunning, incomprehensible, ridiculously mundane. So respectful of the values own humanity: the repetition and boredom.

Note to the Dear Reader: Long time no write. I'm a little rusty with writing, so the rear métanse expectations ... In hell there are not.

Gay Crusing Queens Ny

Marcelo Montecinos Editor: "THE BOOK IS OUR SACRED STONE"

Marcelo Montecinos Martinez (Santiago, 1967), founder of independent label "The Pumpkin Devil or" is one of the most respected publishers of the national average. Do not believe in the book industry as lucrative project (market studies and surveys) or multinational, preferring literature and assumes that problematizes the contentious issues that for which the issues are rather artificial and jet set news. He runs the family printing "Calligraphy Blue and has unfinished studies of Philosophy (1987-1992) in Valparaiso and Literature (1994-1998) in Santiago. He has managed to publish, from 97 to date, about 40 degrees, and make for a memorable time literature and art magazine. Names in the middle, like poets and José Ángel Andrés Cuevas Andwanter or narrators and Marcelo Mellado Gonzalo León, as well as many other emerging artists (Pablo Paredes, Gladys Gonzalez, etc) have chosen to place their work, mark and conceptual soundness of this editorial. After his morning jog and a few days before the patriotic frenzy, talked in his pumpkin Rua Santa Helena, where he lives and works Montecinos.

How did your love of literature?
I was raised in an environment where the library was the wealth essential family my parents were forming in the 60's. The book was the work material and understanding the world of my parents, and me and my two brothers were not alien to this reality. A lot of reading. In adolescence, the hobby itself is literary, with courses in middle and humanistic studies in Philosophy and Literature (in both races I got to fourth grade), which led to the final decision to take over the family printing.

Tell me about your readings initiation and recurrent
Between 13 and 17 beat me books and authors such as Isaac Deutscher, author of the biography of Trotsky "A unarmed prophet ". A little later," The Tunnel "Sabato, a few books on Flaubert, Manuel Rojas and Baldomero Lillo." Eloy ", by Carlos Droguett, at the time seemed very modern writing. In poetry, what I write from the age of 15, I am very interested César Vallejo, García Lorca. In general I feel much respect for men like Paul of Rokha, Neruda, Enrique Lihn. Among the foreigners, I am interested in names like William Faulkner, James Joyce. Well, appoint more would be overkill.

When and under what circumstances the project started publishing Pumpkin ...? was a spontaneous issue or an idea long matured?
In the 80's my parents put all their efforts on the theme of the workshop and press, as the only means of survival. Hence the connection or idea of \u200b\u200bforming a publishing was the obvious thing in me that it was postponed for my college years, in which for many reasons, because the study gave me easy, because the teachers annoyed me because I was more or pending fight dictatorship took me no more out, sometimes I think I lost valuable time that could have engaged in travel. In 1997 I was in the last years of literature, and understood that it could not avoid the press because he was unwilling to be a teacher. But it was enough to print books and magazines, tickets and flyers to strangers. So I decided to become a publisher. Imagined it would be like having a rock band, their own, a label that I would eventually converge to different personalities. The first thing that I edited were three poets of Valparaiso.

understand that your political party, did you ever militant?, Comes from the traditional left. What those guidelines influenced your social worldview of literature or literary society?
Indeed, I am the son of militants. My father, a very active person in journalism and policy, was fiercely expelled from the Communist Party at 68, because being on duty in "El Siglo" titled "Russian Tanks in Prague when the Russians crushed the revolt Czechoslovakian socialism posed a more human face, episode caused the almost ecumenical condemnation of European intellectuals. Then, as an independent, he worked for the UP and only 77 left active politics. For my part, despite being an active militant anti-dictatorship, never belonged to a classic match. Whenever I joined groups so to speak-more disfucionales, which did not imply lack of commitment. The thought and practice from left, make me understand literature as an instrument reflective about amalditada society that exists in Chile today: a violent, individualistic, where people are enslaved by credit card and the religion of money, or careerism desperation. I think the essential teaching of leftism, which I still allows us to understand that the only way for a leftist political thought, progressive and modern art remains. Since art can be influenced more decisively than pretending to be installed in the power of the ignorant right.

What topics interest you for the editorial and what you project for her?
I publish poetry and fiction, but I reject the texts that from my perspective has not been completed. I may be interested in the book or the author published in series, where the conflict is only apparent, because the society we live in is mired in a severe crisis and that fact alone does not lose time. Literature prefer to ask for the error and has no problems in showing his own doubts and weaknesses. On projections, would have more clarity of the titles that come out during the year and a better distribution, not so much in bookstores or at the mall, and longed before, because I know what gives the Chilean market for me, but I realized that many people come to buy books to press, and I want to develop a virtual library that can be sold everywhere. The books published on the shelves out and die, there are few good bookstores where the owner knows what sells, the rest are business books, good perhaps, but not beyond, the writer sells little more on your network.

Do you think the book as a hard copy is destined to disappear?
I think the book will not ever disappear, nor will flourish again, even for an ecological reason: the book is intended to get more expensive, to become the object of worship. Those who read books (especially the newly edited) will be different to the common people (although it has always been more or less well, first as a matter of mass literacy is not and then the influence of television, which provoked a paradigm shift audioescrito one audiovisual), and no longer need the book to find out more, or even to acquire it that technocrats might call "operational expertise, but rather to return to the holy sites, a purring cat that intimacy only for you . People or more readers will read a lot on the Internet and through computer technology toys, but they will buy books and will have in your home as your sacred bone. Finally, the removal of the book writers would have to disappear, and the writer does not go away.

There are at least three authors Pumpkin marriages are setting patterns in the national literary scene. I mean who will surely be the next prize to Pablo Neruda (for poets under 40), one of the better informed environmental journalists and a poet (or "ex-poet") which has its active social disenchantment has now sounded twice as National Literature Prize.
I think the overlap between these authors and seal shows Pumpkin so we will never be alone. Shows that these practices may be more difficult, without apparent success, but quite real. To the extent that today there is this coincidence more authors of which are outlined in the question.

What are the upcoming titles for the publisher?
The story book "Lost in Space", by Carlos Tromben and the novel "Thursday" by Luis Valenzuela. I will also accommodate an Argentine poets anthology entitled "Post Menem", which is very interesting.

EVERY MAN SHOULD BE ABLE TO ALL THE IDEAS, AND UNDERSTAND THAT YOU WILL BE IN THE ARISING

Funny Speeches Lasting 3 Minutes

free version of Hell Remains of a Journey

purchased a book from my teacher did not know.
After reading this (he wrote in his years of "youth") can not stop thinking about myself, about my life and my own thoughts ...

"Man is born rebel. Its nature is repugnant.
The man craving a divine immanence. The whole world would be insufficient body of his relentless desire.
But man is not the only boundless lust for life. Everything in the universe, imperialized, and every individual existence ambitions extend to the whole being. The most miserable animal, delivered without bans his fever coparía devour space and the stars. In the pools of the roads are ephemeral bodies containing the virtual possession of heaven.

No limit is interior to be, no ambition itself is challenged. A waiver is born of an obstacle, any abstention of rejection. The universe is a system of mutual constraints, where the object is constructed as a tension of conflict. Violence, cruel minister of the limited nature of things, imposes the rules of existence to date.

But if the intervention of foreign presence and truncated infinite possible amputation, emaciated soul can only a fraction of the acts with which he dreams. All the world's border, end, end.
Our land dispossession is a thorough learning. Each evening we naked. Our ambition pursues petty decreasing. Living is not acquired, but abdicate.
Everything is challenging for our impotence is known, all barrier for our weakness and admits notice. Among our greed and the fruit that quenches, extends a short distance equal to infinite space. Our deepest desire is our inability safer.

Our life falls apart in each of his gestures, leaving the limbo countless abortions. Scaring live larvae crave our blood. Our destination is the pressure exerted by a stone dead abduración liberty every election obstructs the addresses selected, in each of us groan drowned ghosts that were not.
impassive pale option presides over instantly.
long to unite and simultaneous possession confuse opposing objects, but the relentless requirement consistent acts divided and rolled our monstrous greed of conjunctions. The incompatibility of anti cancels the delicious satisfaction of our appetites disorder.

But if we delude simultaneity, time will ban future compliance. Every act is fertile, and no one can abolish the consequences. The fog of the past permeates us. Unfit to return to our bygone crossroads, we can not pasearnos in time as a dark corridor. Life ignores repentance, and forgot to erect temples confessionals in vain. Years are
successive our cells. Life spirals from the infinity of our ambitions to the pit where its apex club. Our sacrifices stiffness anticipated season.
We are, however, prisoners sentenced to dictate our own sentence. The man can not be delivered to the trajectory of his life as a stone in a parabolic curve that returns to earth. Life is not an easy road by walls, but the path born out of our way, as our fingerprints.

The man is a lost animal, without being an abandoned animal. The man does not know where to go, yet having an obligation to reach. A voice impossible to hear it enjoins. The man only knows if it complies face after the failure.
We are free to apply the most diverse purposes, free of further actions run counter, free in the jungles darker, but our freedom is only freedom to err. If we own maul the promise inscribed in our flesh, his determination will exceed our servant.
Freedom is not stellar rise as a platform for the man to draw from it an arbitrary path between the stars. Freedom is not the power to set goals, but the power to spoil.
Freedom is our risk, the noble privilege to violate our duty. The animal moves forward, unabashed, into the fullness of its essence, and the matter is done with his life alone. The man shudders and teetering on the brink of self. Never is white where the arrow stuck vibrates, but sharp arrow in the wind. "

Nicolás Gómez Dávila

Can You Put Quadraderm On Jock Itch

The Idea of \u200b\u200bthe Universe-Fungus

Physicists are those people who know math (good ones also know some poetry) and are primarily concerned the problem of the limits of the universe. The limits of the universe are, to our knowledge, four.

limit of Origin:
really a serious problem. Various proposals have imagined all crap in my opinion: the big bang , the event primal singularity, intellectual cold quantum vacuum, the architect god creator of geometric axioms of the universe ... Pure tales of desperate teenager (who after all that we as a species). The embryogenesis of the universe is perhaps the oldest problem, and I think the only that can not be resolved satisfactorily.

limit as large :
The problem of the shape of the universe, its gross architecture. Really a minor problem in my opinion.

limit the smallest :
The problem microscopic constitution of the cosmos. Sincerely problem should be in the shadow response. Even assuming that it is in human hands to find the truth (which I doubt). I can only imagine what would happen if my intuition is correct. What is the micrometer of the universe?. Nothing, absolutely. Pure emptiness without form or time. Someone might say that how this is possible since it is clear that matter is something, if events happen how can the universe be nothing infinitesimal. But the idea that matter and events, to be added and subtracted, the stalemate is not refuted anything really. The universe as a whole may well be just an illusion epistemic our eyes absent, and most good thing is that nobody has to know.

The final boundary :
is the problem of where the universe is directed, what is their future. This is the issue that interests me at this time.

able to think the end of the universe does not seem a difficult thing at first. I think it's an issue that anyone who knows the second law of thermodynamics can be assumed. I quote the wisdom of the network because I am too lazy to write something I already own and also discussed the matter on a previous occasion :

" The second law of thermodynamics and second law of thermodynamics expressed in a concise, that" The amount of entropy of any isolated system thermodynamically tends to increase with time, reaching a maximum value. " More simply, when part of a closed system interact with the other hand, tends to divide power equally, until the system reaches thermal equilibrium. "

What this means is that energy is degraded slowly (dissipates) to the extent that no longer works to create matter or motion or anything like that. The power only works when there is asymmetry, when the power is "organized." A hydroelectric dam generates such energy that can be converted into electromagnetism because there is an imbalance between the high water in the dam and the river below. Gravity ensures that this imbalance will not last long and when all the water is at the same level the dam no longer serves. The walls of the dam will not serve to stop gravity (which is impossible) but to delay the process of increasing the entropy of the water system. It only delays the process, since the walls of the dam are organized systems gradually also become disorganized and enter a state of equilibrium with their environment. Asphalt is invaded by water, plant seeds soon corrode the surface and the dam derrumba.Eso without the energy produced by the dam will also pay the price, the rotor moves the water generates heat in addition to electromagnetism. That energy is converted into heat is dissipated and lost, so that the production of electromagnetism is never pure, never managed to make a direct, clean and energy expenditure. There is always something lost.

On the other hand, a system can only get out of balance (ie, organized) when external power the system has an effect on him. The refrigerators maintain such cold inside conducts heat inside to outside, and the thermal imbalance can only be done through the collaboration of additional energy (electricity). The fridge can do this because we, conscious and intelligent beings, we have built. Intelligence can do this because it is in some sense, a highly complex form of energy, and she comes from life forms that they themselves are far from equilibrium (highly organized).

Living beings are only highly effective superorder capsules. If we, therefore the fact that this state of organization can only be accomplished through additional energy and since energy is always degraded (so that the organization created by the energy is always less than herself, as there is a "cost" inevitable), then the obvious question is how complex living energy that was organized at first, as there is in the universe a system as highly organized as their own living. In short, what I mean is this: who the hell gave us the head start that allowed us to create Refrigerators ... This leads me to remember that when I meet an atheist, I smile and say nothing, I just laughed in my heart of its ingenuity and its stupidity. If someone tells me in an zeal of scientism that energy frugal living from the sun no more, and there is no need to think of something else (as a god, for example) I have two that say

1) But who the hell created the sun?, and if it passes ready for the use of the verb "create" ask, but what the hell allowed the creation of which helped create the sun, or tell me to see who was fucking who began to inoculate the energy needed to create what is needed for the organization of what was needed for the sun to be organized? ... Now it seems that one can not use a fucking verb, which is fuck all .... (In other words, if the issue of entropy moves toward the edge of the origin of the universe we are in a very serious problem).

2) The sun's energy can only be more and more disorganized. It is true that the sun's energy is stored in the earth, but what compelled her to organize very complex life forms?.

say that this is not sufficient evidence for the existence of a god or a stationary engine tolondrada such metaphorical. I only say that the mystery of this whole matter has not been resolved and close, and until it is resolved to be an atheist is no more rational who believe speaking in the language of Adam and dirty dance to tambourines, while listening to a well dressed moron chives Brazilian reciting one with an embarrassing histrionics that muerganez full of blood, sex and shit dry (donkey and camel) which call Bible, and that is just the log indulgent primitive nomadic tribe tontucios thirsty land and violence, together with subsequent biography of a guy who, though relatively quiet, most likely need (son of God or not) of a good antipsychotic.

But I got sidetracked.
The main issue is that according to the second principle, the universe does not have no choice but degrade, become completely inert. Itself disappear into a void filling material at absolute zero. This is what I call "glass death." There is no way to escape this fate, so everything else is 5 fleas.

(Obviously this is more complicated because the entropy does not play a single role, calculate the fate of the universe from various other variables. For example, the level of expansion. But if I get really thinking about all that ended up needing antipsychotic myself, and the idea of \u200b\u200bwriting is very spare me those annoying chores. So the very intellectuals who read these things because the paralytic and his Superfriends and reflection do not annoy me.)

glass

death is impossible to avoid if the universe is itself a closed system inert. That destiny is frightening and the question I propose to answer is whether there is any way to avoid this miserable conclusion that obviously cares about a penny a man on foot because the problem about what to chew on is becoming increasingly important.

Only one way to that destination is different. What I will propose, as everything I write, is not new. It's an idea perhaps as old as mankind and mysterious primitive animisms. As each stone and the river had a reason and a soul ... The only way I have to believe that the universe can escape the death of glass is to accept that our home is not inert, that the universe is a living being like us, and how we can organize itself.

This premise has two obvious consequences:

• living beings within the universe, then we are not more than parasites. This conclusion is not need of premises. Against logic there is no evidence worth and for the truly important things in this world, logic only serves to make the clown intellectual (soon to talk about that in the arenite ).
• If the universe is a living then you can not think without an ecosystem, as the organization of living systems can only be sustained because they remain in balance with their environment, exchanging fluids and energy by eating highly organized (other living things) and entropic driving Organic Waste (an elegant euphemism for "shit" (I mention this not happen crude and ordinary, but because people are very dear to you do not like euphemisms, then sorry for the sensitive)).

The second I extracted result looks beautiful. The universe, as a living, you must have an ecosystem, a wide context that gives meaning. Because obviously the universe itself does not. The only meaning of life in isolation is to continue living, moving parasites living jiggle in an effort to satisfy their need to be, as a great sexual freak turns and wiggles around your body to self-destruct, that copula with air and himself to death. That we are living no more.

As at this point most readers will have pulled away by a maelstrom of boredom / lack of understanding then I can afford a bit of sentimentality:
wish I could understand this nonsense we call the universe. I want a credible lie disclosed to me offered. When I look at the sky, when my eyes like the stars give you all I can feel up there, despite all the beauty that part of me might imagine, could find only banalities. Then we too are just one manifestation of the great cosmic stupidity, the great existential insult.

How to think differently?. How can you think of the universe as something that causes serious, something worthy of honor and praise?. Only through a great imaginative power I can think of the universe as something that deserves even be thought. Achievement only imagining belonging to a greater whole (which is ironic because obviously assumes that the universe is that big yet).

But the important point here is that if the universe is a large living should also be a "parasite" something (all living beings are in a sense parasites , think about the reader because if not capable of understanding that does not deserve to read what follows), then the universe must be equal to those who inhabit it. What is living?. Of all beings on earth is a kind-kingdom seems to me the most wonderful of all. So I imagine the universe as a fungus . A fungus that eats the eternal plural and infinitely hard wall material smooth, snowy, outside of a macrocosm of space-time. I imagine those walls, no extension, no color, made with a flat perfect geometry. I imagine the world glued to the flat glass without figures, a sunken spot lame. I rejoice with this intuition. The universe as a mammoth fungus that eats and eats. Ultradimensional as a Buddha in lotus position undermines the ground with his butt.

The universe expands and infection perseveres and selfs. It is no longer possible to think of the final limit, the universe now is unlimited because it refuses to die casting their spores on itself same. Now we have it for eternity, the great universe, motionless heterotrophic colony is only intended to accommodate other heterotrophs still. The mushroom man is but a parasite of a parasite of a parasite of a parasite. Human banality is not just another of the many faces of the god of parasitism regressive. The universe basically good for nothing more.
strange that one can find beauty only in the banal.

Hopefully, some will say maybe, to not use a good anti-fungal in those crystal walls.

feel pleasure also believe that our universe is a simple fungus, but that in the vast non-place in the ecosystem of paradoxes, cockroaches and flies must also exist. These complex neural and violent universe-insect, who anxiously mercilessly devour other living worlds, must be of unquestionable beauty and horrifying.

Amen.