Availability.
I come to check my mail, and I find very flattering to discover that today I have only now come, others are also in the public coffee at this hour, but they are for me unknown, so forgettable in short, are not are, poof! as I will not have ever existed, in that are like God, that there is eternal. Most distressing, however, is to find with anyone or the lack of messages from people I expensive, but the messenger log on and see the sign categorical and definitive, poison dart, which alienates me: none of your contact is offline. Offline (2).
I spent much time outside the mail, even the messenger - is more appropriate to say that many who went in time were unrelated to e-mail, even more were the messenger, and now I no longer are foreign or not fully repeated in the absence these resources required the meeting, expected or wanted, it is expected desired and dear to whom it was expected or not expected at all, only matches. It would not be so serious or it is not exaggerate and in fact knew would not find at least one of those online contacts, the other to become pregnant would have been just coincidence, pleasant, nothing more. But that knowledge is what I bank to get him, what moves me most: the certainty that there will find something other than extreme coincidence chance this time he played against me god-like, relentless chess.
This chance of finding available without object, has me on tenterhooks. True that the absence is contingent sporadic, I have to hand the comfort of knowing that you think, and there-and so somehow we are always connected. But not much consolation with it, or not at all -Because you never know if you are thinking one, you never know if one also exists (even if God, if that.)
Two things arouse my concern at this time: namely the love of others, and know we shall not find, or not yet - like God, do not ever find it anywhere, it is everywhere. Grieves me to think that there is no point waiting, knowing that I will fall for this temptation last happens to oblivion.
Meanwhile, the lucidity live knowing that we are indeed as we are: no connection.
Mentidero of Fallacies. Virgilio Sofistófeles .
I come to check my mail, and I find very flattering to discover that today I have only now come, others are also in the public coffee at this hour, but they are for me unknown, so forgettable in short, are not are, poof! as I will not have ever existed, in that are like God, that there is eternal. Most distressing, however, is to find with anyone or the lack of messages from people I expensive, but the messenger log on and see the sign categorical and definitive, poison dart, which alienates me: none of your contact is offline. Offline (2).
I spent much time outside the mail, even the messenger - is more appropriate to say that many who went in time were unrelated to e-mail, even more were the messenger, and now I no longer are foreign or not fully repeated in the absence these resources required the meeting, expected or wanted, it is expected desired and dear to whom it was expected or not expected at all, only matches. It would not be so serious or it is not exaggerate and in fact knew would not find at least one of those online contacts, the other to become pregnant would have been just coincidence, pleasant, nothing more. But that knowledge is what I bank to get him, what moves me most: the certainty that there will find something other than extreme coincidence chance this time he played against me god-like, relentless chess.
This chance of finding available without object, has me on tenterhooks. True that the absence is contingent sporadic, I have to hand the comfort of knowing that you think, and there-and so somehow we are always connected. But not much consolation with it, or not at all -Because you never know if you are thinking one, you never know if one also exists (even if God, if that.)
Two things arouse my concern at this time: namely the love of others, and know we shall not find, or not yet - like God, do not ever find it anywhere, it is everywhere. Grieves me to think that there is no point waiting, knowing that I will fall for this temptation last happens to oblivion.
Meanwhile, the lucidity live knowing that we are indeed as we are: no connection.
Sofistófeles Virgilio, to April 6, 2004.
********* Mentidero of Fallacies. Virgilio Sofistófeles .
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