Maybe that's why you should be careful of your eyes?
In the morning, in the kitchen, on the table, I see the egg, I look at the egg with one eye,
immediately I realize that one can't be seeing an egg, seeing the egg never stays
in the present, I see an egg, and it becomes to have seen an egg for three millennia.
In the very instant of seeing the egg, it is the memory of an egg.
Only seeing the egg that has already been seen.
Seeing the egg is too late.
Seeing the egg is the promise of one day arriving to see the egg, short and indivisible.
If there is no thought, there is the egg.
Looking at the necessary instrument that after being used, I will play outside.
I will be with an egg.
The egg does not have itself, individually it does not exist.
Seeing the egg is impossible.
The egg is super visible, like supersonic sounds.
No one is able to see the egg without seeing the egg.
Only the machines see the egg.
Gindash sees the egg.
When I was old, an egg lay on my shoulder.
The love for the egg also does not feel.
The love for the egg is super sensitive.
It does not know that it is an egg.
When I was old, I went to the repository of an egg and walked lightly,
so as not to make the silence of the egg.
When I died, they took away from me the egg with care.
I was still alive, but instead the world saw the egg.
As the world, the egg is obvious.
The egg does not exist anymore.
Like the light of the star has already died.
The egg, properly said, does not exist anymore.
You are a perfect egg, you are white.
You dedicate the beginning, you dedicate the first time.
The egg dedicates the Chinese nation.
An egg is a suspended thing.
It never lay.
When it lay, it was not it who laid.
It was something that was under it.
In the morning, in the kitchen on the table,
I see the egg.
I look at the egg with only one look.
Immediately I realize that it cannot be seen again.
Seeing the egg never remains in the present.
I look at the egg in the kitchen,
with superficial attention so as not to break it.
I take greater care of not understanding it,
being impossible to understand it.
I know that if I understand it,
it is because I am wrong.
Understanding is the proof of the error.
Understanding it is not a way of seeing it,
never think about the egg.
It is a way of having seen it.
Is it the egg's egg?
It is almost certain that it does exist.
I immediately know.
What I do not know about the egg
is what really matters.
What I do not know about the egg
gives me the egg in my own way.
The moon is inhabited by eggs.
The egg is an exteriorization.
Having a shell is to give yourself.
The egg, naked, in the kitchen,
makes the table an inclined plan.
The egg exposes.
Who is deep in the egg?
Who sees more than the surface of the egg?
He is wanting something else.
He is hungry.
The egg is the soul of the chicken,
the chicken is rejected, the egg is right,
the chicken is scared, the egg is right,
like a projectile standing,
because the egg is the egg in space,
the egg over the blue, I love you, the egg.
I love you like nothing else,
you know that the other thing does not touch it.
The aura of my fingers
is that I see the egg, I do not touch it,
but to dedicate my vision of the egg
I would die for Mundana's life
and I need it, from Gemma and Clara.
Use the lense
The egg sees me.
The egg meditates?
The egg does not idealize me, the egg only sees me and is exempt from the understanding that Ferry, the egg, has never fought, it is a gift.
The egg is invisible to the naked eye, of the egg to the egg, it arrives to God, which is invisible to the naked eye.
The egg may have been a triangle that so much rolled into space and was sailing.
The egg is basically a jar, it would have been the first jar molded by the Etruscans.
No, the egg is the originator of Macedonia.
There was calculated the fruit of the most penous spontaneity in the areas of Macedonia.
A man with a wand in his hand drew and then turned off with a foot in...
The egg is something that needs to be taken care of.
That is why the hen is the waste of the egg.
So that the egg, through time, the hen exists, mother, that's why the egg lives out of it,
because it is always too early for its time, the egg, for now, will always be revolutionary.
It lives inside the hen so that they don't call it white, the egg is white,
but it can't be called white, not that it hurts him.
But the people who call it a white egg, these people die for life.
Calling it white, what is white, can destroy humanity.
Once, a man was called that man.
He didn't lie, he was. But until today we have not recovered,
some after others, the general law to keep us alive can be said to be a beautiful face,
but those who say the face dies for having missed the subject.
What about the hen?
The egg is the great sacrifice of the hen.
The egg is the cross that the hen carries in life, the egg is the unreachable dream of the hen.
The hen loves the egg, she doesn't know that the egg exists.
If she knew that it carries itself, a egg, she would lose the state of the hen to be a hen.
The hen is the survival of the hen. Surviving is salvation, because it seems that living does not exist anymore.
Living leads to death.
So what the hen does is to be permanently surviving, surviving,
to survive, to fight against the mortal life, to be a hen is that.
The hen has a foreign air.
It is necessary that the hen does not know that it has an egg.
If not, it would be saved as a hen, which is also not guaranteed, but it would lose the egg, so it does not know.
So that the egg uses the hen, the hen exists.
It was just to be a prize, but the hen's disappearance was sold.
To like it was not part of being born, to like it, to be alive, to die.
Tell me who came before.
It was the egg that found the hen.
The hen was not even called.
The hen is directly chosen.
The hen lives as a dream.
There is no sense of reality at all, scared of the hen, because they are always...
Interrupting your delusion, the hen is a great dream.
The hen suffers from an unknown evil.
The hen's unknown evil is the egg.
She does not know how to explain herself.
I know that the error is in me.
She calls life a mistake.
I do not know what I feel anymore.
It's the same, it's the same, it's the same, it's the same, it's the same.
It's what the hen does with the hen all day.
The hen has a lot of inner life.
To tell the truth, the hen only has inner life.
Our vision of its inner life is what we call the hen's inner life.
The hen acts as if she understands herself, or she fears.
And she screams in a scandal, crazy.
All this so that the egg does not break inside her,
because the egg that breaks inside the hen is like...
Blood.
The hen looks at the horizon.
Like...
If the hen from the horizon comes and sees the egg,
apart from being a means of transportation to the egg,
the hen is dumb,
busy and dumb.
How could the hen understand itself?
Is it a contradiction of an egg?
It is still the same that originated in Macedonia.
The hen is always the most modern tragedy,
it is always in the mind of the pair,
it continues to be redesigned,
it has not yet been found the most suitable way for a hen.
But for the hen there is no way.
It is in your condition not to serve yourself.
Being, however, your most important destiny than her,
and being your destiny, the egg,
your personal life,
does not interest us.
Inside yourself,
the hen does not recognize the egg,
but outside itself also does not recognize it.
When the hen sees the egg,
thinks that it is dealing with something impossible
and with a heart beating.
With a heart beating so much,
she does not recognize it.
Suddenly,
look at the egg in the kitchen and see the food in it.
I do not recognize it,
and my heart beats.
The metamorphosis is making itself in me,
it begins not to be able to see the egg,
outside of each egg,
outside of each egg that eats itself,
the egg does not exist anymore.
I can no longer believe in an egg,
I am more and more forced to believe,
I am dying, I look too much for an egg,
and it is sleeping me.
I can no longer believe in an egg,
I am dying, I look too much for an egg,
I am dying, I look too much for an egg,
I am dying, I look too much for an egg,
I do not understand the egg.
I only understand the broken egg.
I break it in the fridge.
It is in this indirect way
that I offer my existence to the egg.
My sacrifice is to reduce my own life,
I did it in my pleasure and my pain,
my disfigured destiny,
and only have my own life.
It is for those who saw the egg,
a sacrifice, like those who,
in the convent, sweep the floor
and wash the clothes,
serving without the glory of greater function,
my work is to live my pleasures
and my pains.
It is absolutely essential
that I be occupied
and distracted.
I am indispensable
and one of those who renegade.
I am part of the masonry
who became an egg once,
and renegade
as a way to protect it.
We are
those who
are used to destroy
and consume.
We
are
those who
are used to destroy
and consume.
We are
those who
are used to destroy
and consume.
We are
those who
are used to destroy
and consume.
There is a certain way to look at it.
There is a way to give hand.
We recognize ourselves
and this is what we call love.
And then
it is not necessary to despair
even if we do not speak
or even if we do not mind,
even if we do not tell the truth,
it is not necessary to simulate.
Love is when it is possible
to have a love,
because love is the great disappointment
of everything else
and little is supported by losing
all other illusions.
Those who would volunteer
for love, thinking that love
will enrich
the personal life is the opposite.
Love is finally the poverty.
Love is not to have.
Even love is the disappointment
of what was thought to be love
and it is not a prize.
It is a blessing
given exclusively to those
who without it would corrupt an egg
with their personal pain.
This does not make love an honor.
It is exactly given
to the evil agents,
those who would disturb everything
if they were not allowed to
guess vaguely.
All agents
are given
many advantages
for the egg to be made.
It is not the case to be jealous
because even some of the worst
conditions than the others
are only the ideal conditions
for the egg.
As for the pleasure of the agents,
they also receive it
without pride
or austerity.
They live all pleasures.
It is even our sacrifice
for the egg to be made
to be imposed on us.
It is a very appropriate nature
of pleasure.
What makes it easier
is that it makes
the pleasure less painful.
There are cases
of agents
who commit suicide.
There are insufficient
instructions received
and feel without support.
There was the case of the agent
who publicly revealed to be the agent
because he was intolerable
not to be understood
and he no longer supported
not to have respect for the law.
He died
in an accident
.
There was another
who did not even need to be eliminated
he himself consumed
slowly in his revolt, his revolt
came when he discovered
that the two or three instructions
received did not include any explanation.
There was another also eliminated
because he thought
that the truth should be bravely
said and started
in the first place to look for it.
From him
in the name of the truth
with his innocence
his
apparent courage
was foolish
and was naive in his desire
of loyalty.
He understands that being loyal
is not a clean thing.
Being loyal
is being loyal to the rest.
These
extreme cases of death
are not for cruelty
let's say
cosmic
unfortunately
individual cases
can not be taken into consideration
for those who succumb to become individuals
here are the institutions
the charity
the understanding that does not discriminate
reasons for our human life anyway.
The eggs are in the fridge
immersed in the dream I prepare the breakfast
without any sense of reality.
I shout for the children who break
the beds, scratch the chairs
and eat. And the work of the day begins
screaming, laughing, eating,
of course, joy, among fights,
day, which is our salt
and we who are the salt of the day.
Living is extremely tolerable
Living occupies and strives to live
makes me laugh
and makes me smile in my mystery
my mystery
is that I will only be a half
and not an end
it has given me the most
malicious of the freedoms
I am not a fool and I take advantage
I even hurt others
who frankly
the fake job
that gives me
to disperse my true
function
because I take advantage of the fake job
and of it I make my true
possible money that gives me as a daily
to facilitate my life
so that the egg does
because this money I have used
for other purposes
last time I bought
in the shop but I'm rich
that's all
we will have the necessary and modern
to live and also the time
that they gave me and give us
only for that in the honored ocean
the egg does
I have used it for pleasure
and lists of pain and lists
entirely forgotten of the egg
the fake job that gives me to disperse
my true function
because I take advantage of the fake job
and of it I make my true
possible money that gives me as a daily
to facilitate my life so that the egg
does because this money I have used
for other purposes
last time
I bought actions in the shop but I'm rich
that's all
and also the time that they give us
only for that in the honored ocean
the egg does
because this time I have used it for pleasure
and lists of pain and lists
entirely forgotten of the egg
the egg does
because this time I have used it for pleasure
...
but I sleep
the sound of justice
knowing that my life is가
not bothered by the start
of the great time on the contrary, it seems that it is required of me that I am extremely
fussy, it is also required of me that I sleep as if they want me worried and distracted
and they do not care how it is that I myself, I myself say, I only have the same service
to disturb, what reveals to me that maybe I am an agent, it is the idea that my destiny
hinders me, at least that they really had me let me guess, I was one of those who
would do the wrong job if at least they did not guess a little, they made me forget
what made me guess, but slowly it became the notion that my destiny hinders me and that
I am an instrument of their work, but anyway it was just an instrument that I could
be, the work could not be mine, I have already tried to establish myself on account of
my own, it did not work out, it was until today that tremolo hand had me insisting a little
more and I would have lost health forever, since then, since this bad experience, I
look for a reason to sign this way, which has already given me a lot, that they already gave me
everything that could be granted and that the other agents, many superiors to me also
worked only for what they did not know and with the same few instructions, it has already
been given a lot, this, for example, once or another, with a heart beating by privilege,
I at least know that I am not recognizing, with a heart beating with emotion, I at
least do not understand, with a heart beating with confidence, I at least do not know, but
the egg, this is one of their subterfuges, while I was talking about the egg, I had
forgotten the egg, talk, talk, destroy the mind and the egg is entirely protected by so many
words, talk, talk, talk, talk, talk, talk, talk, talk, talk, talk, talk, talk, talk, talk,
talk, talk, talk, talk, talk, talk, talk, talk, talk
For devotion to the egg, I forgot, my need to forget, my interest to forget,
because the egg is an excuse, and in front of my possessive adoration, it could retract
and never return, but if I forget, if I sacrifice to forget it, if the egg was impossible,
then free and delicate, without any message for me, maybe once, maybe once again,
he moved from space to this window that I have always left open, and in the morning
down in our building, serene, until the kitchen, illuminating it with my applause.
