There is an old Arabic tale that the wind carries through the desert...
There once was a boy who had nothing; only the innocence of a child was inscribed in his soul. His face was dark from the sun, his dry hair dishevelled by the wind, his lips were dry of thirst... But it was the eyes that were the mirror of his soul that made the people stop whenever he was passing by.
He was a friend to everybody... But nobody was a friend to him...
I am lying. He did not exist. He was just one of those who speak so much without meaning anything while examining the prices of the diet food at a local mall.
The age of fairy tales is over.
Move on.
Verbalize... market... produce... advertise...titillating pleasure...
Welcome to the age of cement tombs and plasma TVs.
Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls...
Welcome aboard.
This plane has only 2 exits. One at birth, the other with your last breath. The duration of the flight is unknown.
The captain wishes you a pleasant journey...
And try not to choke on that imported mind of yours. The airlines do not take responsibility for fatal ramifications.
