THE BEGINNING OF SOMETHING NEW

Literally, one lives bumping with realities absolutely different to each instant. It costs to adapt to them, and, to my criterion, is not good to adapt one to said reality, since we are in constant change, and if we detain us in her the time us devoraría and would be product of a new existential closing. The decision of trascender, perhaps was a very remote possibility. Utopian is, until imagining, that will be eternal... The man has believed immortal. All the creatures, least the man, are it, since they ignore the death. They do not comprise, do not reason, still (graces, to the one who was) have not recognized mortal, do not try to comprise the incomprehensible, and live prósperamente, without pretending, far of all worry. It is to say, without anticiparse to eventual future hypotheses. His grace, is to have not been loaded by the desdicha to think. ¡Which beautiful would be to be like an ave, or a flower!, that do not know the end...They are part of a constant cycle, without imagining it, at least...Simple and complejamente: \\\"they Are\\\"... [And think, that so many times, have said that me cansé to be...] Perhaps the main pride of the creation, is the have him awarded to a lot of creatures the capacity of not imagining a world without them. And leave them that they are free, in his world, our world, for convivir in harmony during his eternal go through the earth, by the water, the air, and (each so much) by the loved fire... The man, however, with his ambition, and the wish of prosperar, will look for to satisfy his ego, and the hambre without reason... He lives promising, will live spending life, will try to buy all, even to the time. It will believe that his dignity measure in the remuneración by his work, and no to recognize able, of said work... It will promise a \\\"future\\\" (so next, ey...) walking by miles of ripios, doubting to each step. Many do it, many do , and try to change. The sad, is that they try it/try alone... - ¿\\\"Alone\\\"?...To see: you believe to be only in \\\"this\\\"...And that another that crosses by the avenue, also thinks it...¿Now are only in this?... Of some way, always finish joined, all... We will find us, in some place... Somebody, once us knew it promise :) Only the Gods can promise, because they are immortal... We, only are pieces of time shut in the space...The time is the subject of which has been created the man. And, surely, before the distances were main because the space measure by the time...We are big vasijas, that do not fill ...But that cultivate : sharing. ¿And which worse empty that the silence without reason?...There are silences that say a lot of things.. There is not at all more interesting that a conversation, in silence, between two lovers...It is a mystery, so much as that to think in how the irony can restate arguments. I have been able to suspect, some time, that the only thing without mystery is the happiness, because you justify by if alone... And each time that believe to have it, can not it explain...Because simply seat , is not objective. Only believe can explain the sad, when we felt to have lost the happiness, and being than this, justify by the absence of that...(And vice versa). We put us sad, and melancholic when losing something. And are so ignorantes, that do not see that the only that belongs us, is that that has gone ...Because it was our (loaned, actually), and will follow it being for us. Instead, what believe to have now, is ephemeral and passenger: you will not value it until having it lost...