Unattributed
I worry that life will be completely written to be seen from the screens of televisions and computers. I do not know how writers will be the future or rather if it exists in 100 years. I refer to men who seek to fight against misfortune of technology: these machines rather, I now see with the eyes of that Hidalgo, who fought in the era at all costs.
But back to top would be the best gift that God would give him at least to my generation that equals that of Foulkner, there is no history, suffers. Bitterly aware of this, I dive into the concept of the Czech writer Milan Kundera on the "eternal return: the heaviest burden," willing to bear the weight of a generation adrift in my being and supported in life, reason and words.
Waking the man who travels to the scaffold must be the intention of the writer, as Donne said. Wake of the road that leads to jail the scaffold where we all sleep from birth to grave.
writers fear for future generations. I fear for me, because I do not know if I'll be able to put aside that demon that always invites me to turn the screen so that the imagination is lost between a tunnel accident as I look in vain entertains century.
I worry that life will be completely written to be seen from the screens of televisions and computers. I do not know how writers will be the future or rather if it exists in 100 years. I refer to men who seek to fight against misfortune of technology: these machines rather, I now see with the eyes of that Hidalgo, who fought in the era at all costs.
But back to top would be the best gift that God would give him at least to my generation that equals that of Foulkner, there is no history, suffers. Bitterly aware of this, I dive into the concept of the Czech writer Milan Kundera on the "eternal return: the heaviest burden," willing to bear the weight of a generation adrift in my being and supported in life, reason and words.
Waking the man who travels to the scaffold must be the intention of the writer, as Donne said. Wake of the road that leads to jail the scaffold where we all sleep from birth to grave.
writers fear for future generations. I fear for me, because I do not know if I'll be able to put aside that demon that always invites me to turn the screen so that the imagination is lost between a tunnel accident as I look in vain entertains century.
feel that the truth will live forever in the written word, thought, not spoken but lashes. I now rely on the parable of the speaker's Lonely Peruvian writer Mario Vargas Llosa. I am inclined to that blessed be a sign of the love of writing, decided to live with her until my last breath. Eat and live to endure forever in my Bicer, and develop with that warm and painful fervor that led many to the thought of a strict discipline that allowed immortality to his name and leave the world a possible vision of what can be inhuman humanity.
I dream of the " Catoblepas " that Flubert described in " The Temptation of St. Anthony, an imaginary animal, a creature that ate itself from the feet. A patient " Catoblepas" is the writer, a being who searches within himself the experience that will give life and opportunities, to answer the main question of his generation.
I'll be the literary representation of youth, playing Aldous as the man who makes her way through the forest while cutting furiously obstacles from his path. The same is deaf to the jeers loudly, who is not allowed to watch the morning that every day he asks the same question today What do you think your dreams?
For now assume this challenge on my own written word, I call on the life and fate to be left to carry on my shoulders. I call the " Catoblepas " and Lone to show what I write, why I came to this fast-paced world. Otherwise, invoke the death looking from Honduras, the light of the mountain where Hemingway was my teacher, that I will overcome it before I started my journey to eternity with the best grace that leaves us the job well done or at least tried. October 2005
I dream of the " Catoblepas " that Flubert described in " The Temptation of St. Anthony, an imaginary animal, a creature that ate itself from the feet. A patient " Catoblepas" is the writer, a being who searches within himself the experience that will give life and opportunities, to answer the main question of his generation.
I'll be the literary representation of youth, playing Aldous as the man who makes her way through the forest while cutting furiously obstacles from his path. The same is deaf to the jeers loudly, who is not allowed to watch the morning that every day he asks the same question today What do you think your dreams?
For now assume this challenge on my own written word, I call on the life and fate to be left to carry on my shoulders. I call the " Catoblepas " and Lone to show what I write, why I came to this fast-paced world. Otherwise, invoke the death looking from Honduras, the light of the mountain where Hemingway was my teacher, that I will overcome it before I started my journey to eternity with the best grace that leaves us the job well done or at least tried. October 2005
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