Hello reader,
Tonight, a text that you do not perhaps understand, but it does not matter.
It is in life that crosses overlap as invisible river beds. There are roads that accompanied each other along a path that rises with each step.
On these roads, there are illuminated alleys by balls of light floating in the winds of a gravity unreal. Others are obscured by gray clouds of boredom.
These alleys are lined with walls, plane or empty. And even if they intersect, and kinks along, we do not follow a single, this path.
After these crosses, along these paths, at the height of the road, there is a wall, often. Cold and frozen in the eternal destiny that have guided us to him.
And on this wall, we only see what we can see, an obstacle, an end, inevitable. And we die-backed wall.
However, the handle an invisible door in our eyes we whisper that all is not lost. We must open our eyes to another dimension, that the body does not equate eye eye direction.
Then, if we make the effort, meaning our hand grabs the handle and the hand turns while our body is dangling at the end of our arms tired.
And there before our united us, body and senses, we can move forward on the path life. Path that will be repeated endlessly invisible river, walkways and illuminated walls without doors alive.
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