.
And by the way I was reflecting here about what this life means.
And what it can mean? Tell me, little Cokie: I wanna listen what you have to say.
Little Cokie.
It means an illusion, and it means a reality at the same time.
Then one day we die, and what happens? Where we go? Where all this sweetness, and even the worst of us all?
And this poem disguised in thought
And where all the battles
of the ones
who never fought.
Is like a magic to be here, you and I; but isn't magic: remember always, my master: the reality is always more surprising than the fantasy...
We are presence and the light is not thrown by the candles, but by our own eyes: that's why we avoid to look each other in the eye.
The eyes and its light: where they are going to go after death, my master?
You know that we all are going towards the nothing: our definitive reality: the death; that lasts forever: the nothing.
But, the nothing: is not something?
.
