Dillema

Text:

© Pexe
Dillema
In Sem categoria on Fevereiro 21, 2012 at 12:13 am

The taste of freedom was tense, packed with every possible opportunity! Indescribable, wanton, free, libidinous. With huggable body. Naked. Complex. Gross. Demi-goddess.

Freedom could be the charm of sorcerer. Or the bricks of mason. Even thought by a housekeeper. Freedom would be the toy of a child, street sweeper’s broom, in most cases, human, planet earth rotating in space.

There was, or would treat or daydream that can be imploded in the bowels of freedom. The impression is aware of what was released just beautiful and seductive. And it is only, just known by those who knew what were dancing to the music, defying it, while they followed the steps in pace, placing their disagreement with the harmony.

Sometimes freedom is disguised in: – I love you. Many other times, their camouflage itself was a long shot, or jump from an airplane without a parachute. Thus, it could be far less than expected … As the apple of Eve, or even a bicycle. It was so free.

– I want more …

Talked to the time the freedom. Independent, while acting without any right bonds that denote identity. Fickle, greedy, glutton.

Free will enslaved.

In this sense, his dream was no longer being. Pure and simple.

Wanting everything, to then one day, the last of the days, put aside and have property when saying – I know, I took, I felt, lived, flew, loved, hated, killed, revived, I wrote, I ran, I came, betrayed, I swam, played, listened … I died.

Long live to the freedom.