by Rafael Gallardo

Behind the upside down plot there is a secretly kept lid to the other side, where nobody wants to be, but everybody fatally goes, with all scenes painted in the walls as a silent reminder of previous wars, inseparable shadows of death detached to better chase its prey (anything that moves) in a quest to possess as much as possible for no particular reason, considering that they already have all that is tenable, but they need more to satisfy horrifying projections of their evil minds, commanding the extinction of entire countries brutally labeled by their ‘smart bombs/stupid warriors’ that can’t understand the infernal echoes from the battlefield breaking the universal heart with pain and sorrow already known before the cruel and criminal invasion of Ukraine.

Who would imagine it? Mostly everyone, but nobody in power took decisive action, and now it may be too late, as in the Book of Revelations, 1984, Mad Max or the horoscope still not written because, perhaps, soon no being will be around, as happened so many times before, a turning point for a renewed universe, starting fresh in a galactic morning with the news of a new burning planet, pretty to the eye, but universally painful for the  blazing species and, of course, for the stars, saints, angels, God, watching with impotence the destruction of the most creative work that through millennia built a social paradise, despite endemic devilish obstruction impossible to defeat because it is within, and you never know when it is going to cowardly stab.

Every day feels like farewell in these ‘interesting times’, paraphrasing Camus…


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