Saturday, May 2, 2009

Sims Egypt Relic Of Eternity

The swan and the ocean.


Him:

It is dawn. The sun barely stand up but already the dew disappears. Waves, undaunted, did not appear to procumbent. By concentrating, he can hear a lot from this cliff. Herbs that pitching, rubbing each other and insects that enjoy the first sunny mornings. This year the sun has yet to be expected, but here it is accustomed. In the distance, seagulls have fun: they want their breakfast. They find it easily. When the wind is mild and well oriented, their wing beats punctuate the capricious nature. One of them cries, she probably is hungry. Sometimes you hear the footsteps of early morning walkers. But today nobody, just the kind that sits, sated. It seems digest here everything she eats there.

Time passes, everything changes. The sun burns the grass dry without flinching, hares hiding and seagulls sleep, afraid. There are a lot of noise but nothing is heard. Children scream and scold parents, cars honking and drivers get angry. All are on holiday but none seems to know. Walkers run along the cliff and walk beside the marked trail. Smokers smoke and throw their cigarette butts next to the trash. And nature is silent.

is when the sun goes down he has to walk on the cliff. Often, while contemplating the horizon he cries. He is afraid and can not talk about it. The rocks stand upright, proud to stand for so long. They give hope to him, he says it's possible that we can resist. Then his eyes look around him closer to the world of men and he begins to cry. Sadness, spite or desperation.

Today, if there is not powerless to attend to those things that get lost. He made a mistake. Forward, running times, rebuild, flee and regret. All this made him forget one thing. It is beside the ocean, Finistere his old world and far from the gates of this below. He thought, impressed and appreciative that the distance could be a concrete barrier. He saw nothing insurmountable. But the only real separation between men, is time. No more mountains, no ocean and no one seems to desert resist its congeners. But the face of time, man can do nothing. Ballot arms motionless along its body, it looks to die slowly. A travel never ends. Today, travel exist Moreover, more really is. The adventure of long roads gave way to rapid transit. Distances are reduced to nil and the time is found almighty. There are times too long that open sores that will not heal, he will forget or pass.

She:

arms of her lover. The pillow of the lover. The mattress of the lover. The smell, the words, the comfort, the warm heat of her lover. As a point more than a comma, as a door over a hallway. It logical end. Object, not at all. But certainly means. The need to review it before opening the bags and draw conclusions. Whether the lover is part of the trip or can sit at the moment "i" in the Chamber of real life. If it can be part benchmarks or should just be an excuse for losing. That's what she said to convince more than to see that. Advance, giving the impression to flee, after all, there is no harm in that. The key is what we think, what we are seeing more than what anyone might think. After all, it is just a survival instinct a bit too wide for the narrow hallway and delicate, finely decorated the walls containing it. Clearly, an elephant chased by a mouse in a china shop. Relegate "him" the rand retail. Make him lose all importance in knowing the household, pretending what to think, do not say too much for not lying. Wanting the best butter qualities and butter money: it wants to persist impossible bet to win.

Him:

Resigned. At the age when one stops growing and begins to age, he realizes that his future based on illusions. It was not too dreamy, he has not met the wrong people and did not really made bad choices. He is a victim of timing more than time. The beads were not strung in the right order and it now includes that to continue, you will have to break the necklace. Ironically, this makes him think this pretty bracelet he gave, one day, who was wearing another who broke the next but never saw coming the day of resurrection. Swansong premonitory Random insolent or life, he prefers to stick to the second option, just to keep every morning to get up and every night when possible, watching the rocks, immovable, imperturbable resist the wrath of Ocean.

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