A quiet storm coming ‘thru day and night. It removes those monsters from my sight. Bad dreams implicate bad thoughts and future dark memories. Mary and her merry old spectacles from nowhere seize my eulogies.
Restitution of an honourable mistake, perspiration motif I got to take. Causes, pauses, clauses… all of them are an obstacle to reach our goal. Then they become chants from our soul, impassive odours of the soil that imply a genuine command, the same we hear every other time throughout the land. Something only a few can really understand.
Observation all around the place. Less people than before, less disgrace. We’re reaching planets from outer space… in a blink of an eye. That’s the extensive power of a vast and reckless imagination.
Escribió: Israel Nungaray González en Ciudad Juárez, México el 2 de febrero de 2014.