Ravalement like a frill of life choking in his own fatigue and drunk it cheerfully. On the supports of a low sensitive to slow, my mind wanders to the notes shifted among a thousand thoughts rush to escape and the world as a chaotic cloud. Beings emerge in the reflections of each sound, and I seem to perceive their soul waves nonchalantly. Offered to my gaze a wave form that cove on the creeks, like a wind that moves, is moved and dies for too stroked lines plunging beneath the sea abyssal, punctuated by sighs. The lights are holding their breath hammered by lightning, the circles and lines intersect constantly leave and come back. You can see some dreams to nightmares merge, we can see the blur of the vacuum that eats nothing. You can see the infinite, which sometimes reaches out his hand and his persistent gaze invites us. You can also see the waves drowned, soft and smooth where some letters appear to stand as asleep. The tracks never seem to stop Odd imperturbably stubborn, vexing. Staked life, they go, immutable.
For never having seen the bottom, I find hope, one day who knows, like a distant echo came from nothing, a point under a rainbow sky.
