ideas spin in the blender of the mind ... Whereabouts are known to be arrived and yet there are many corners where the words rise and fall into disarray, leaving the seat of thought ... The flowers grow and fruit drop strangers, with figures and new colors, the harvest is difficult and planted more uncertainty in the fields of reason ... It is unclear what to do or say, navigating in eroded soil, the barren truths burn illogical illusion and sleep on a hammock future of paper ... Like a bird with injured wings wanting to fly, are achieved only a few jumps, you get just a few feet forward on the horizontal, vertical ... nothing in the
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