self-referential adaptation of "The Other" by JL Borges.
That autumn afternoon I can remember only embraces a piece, a piece of torn fabric that represents my life. And as a single serving of providential moment I have experienced great results insufficient to account for itself the significance of the event, today I decide to transcribe and-miss accuracy but what is even more important, makes sense. Because I still do not understand what made the whole cosmos conspired against my certainties and assurances just that day, at that time, in that exact place. A second of difference would have been enough to break forever the coordinates of the experience. A single flap of a single pigeon had reached to turn the tide of invisible but definite thread my eyes. A single, tiny thing. But no, nothing happened there, because all know (unless I completely ignored it) that something was to come uppermost. All coincidences and circumstances of the world know the ancient pact that inhibit intervene here only for the divine. All elements of the transparent context were prepared to operate as utility giant's most perfect work that has been designed. All condensed matter in this environment that was shortly describe the wonders of the unexplored universe. They do not know yet what I know. And it is this that then I am about to discuss.
(MISSING PART II)
----------------------------------- ----------------------
R NOTE: promise to upload soon the two paragraphs missing, but is that but my entries are too long and even I was really bored, haha. But for now I ask, what / s was / were your / s time / s angel, fantastic, wonderful? But these important where one falls off the horse and start seeing everything differently, eh? I do not expect less from you! hehe. Now: A besote! :)
