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July 12 The Final Judgment===========El Juicio Final
The Final Judgment
The author: Born in Chinácota, Colombia, he lived his life navigating between his books, hypnotized by his search of the truth. Only when the weight of his pains convinced him of the imminence of his death, he decided to lend his mind and his hands, so the cadavers fabricated by corrupt leaders could talk.
Brief description:
A challenging attempt to show the hidden reasons for a war, which is just the beginning of a world conflagration originated on the desks of a corporation maker of death.
Full description:
Since the first orgasm taking place in the infinite bowels of the cosmos, going through the cell and reaching the most sinister animal that ever has set foot on any planet: Man. He created the hair-raising creature made of words: the Nation, which subsists fabricating wars, assassins, hunger and misery. In its belly, leaders amass fortunes; fill graves with flags worn out by money, which has more power on Earth than God in Heaven. Until men and their dead, tired of waiting for God to come with His Final Judgment, decided to speed it up, transforming the smiles of the leaders into bites, when they saw themselves discovered by a language in which each of the people assassinated by their orders put a word to pierce the foundations where the State and its Armies were frolicking. Extract page 12
At the center of centers, where high and low, wide and narrow, front and behind are divided in equal parts; where the force of attraction and rejection do not exist, in perennial waiting, Nothing’s ovaries craved to be copulated. When All’s phallus reached Nothing’s uterus, sighs and moans, gasps that forebode the orgasm, were emitted in every corner of the cosmos by All’s particles and absorbed by Nothing’s pores. In the climax of orgasm, when All’s phallus flooded Nothing’s ovaries, a thunderous sound, that some of the descendants of this universal coitus are still able to hear, preceded that powerful explosion as a consequence of the union of All’s semen with Nothing’s ovule. The flames, daughters of that explosion, continue incandescent; the fruit of All’s and Nothing’s love was born at the center of centers: the Light. Gametes erupted by All’s phallus flew around the phosphorescence where All’s and Nothing’s love burnt.
In the middle of that night that appeared to have no end, when Nothing destroyed All’s phallus so he could copulate with no one else, not only light sprang up from the collapse of that immense love: sound also came up. When that night split with the birth of light, the voice of language was born, the first word was articulated and pronounced rhythmically, in just one utterance of the voice and its echo still resounds in the infinite concave sphere of the cosmos. That night, All and Nothing shouted in unison: God!
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"It is the time when the dead are still waiting for the day of resurrection. They lived their lives with no worries about the other creatures, because the sorcerers and leaders have told them to wait for the day of resurrection, for that day justice would be done. Meanwhile, sorcerer leaders and their puppets enjoyed the pleasure of doing whatever they needed to do to live as kings and brandish the power of God on Earth; without Angels but Armies, mercenaries who, upon one word from those who enjoy the transformation of language into money, are capable of killing and destroying happiness in the name of words and symbols. And not only happiness, they destroy the possibility of using reasoning, the only difference between beast and humans. They allow us to have opinions, but only in black and white; those who think in colors need to be turned into ashes, they said, and use crosses and fire to burn ideas and bodies; to create comfort for themselves and their protégés, they invented wars.
The dead got tired of waiting for resurrection day and decided to write the final judgment. I only needed to feel their feelings and read what they wrote while they were alive to transcribe their thoughts, because they discovered that having allowed injustice and murders organized by leaders and sorcerers using the hands and sons of the dead to commit them, is the only cause that the dead never will see resurrection day. They are condemned to live dead for all an eternity because when they were alive, they closed their eyes to the deeds of those that governing, turned reason into a beast. They lived an orgy of flesh and blood, killing the fetus of the spirit, spirits that are the key to resurrection, spirits that cannot be born in brains without rationality, and rationality that cannot be born in brains without ethic. Leaders and sorcerers prohibited, - with our consent - that the body let the spirit be born as an eternal entity, so some day, the spirit should be able to maintain the body compact and without changes by age. That day would be the resurrection day, not of the dead, but of human creatures' dreams, those who were assassinated by sorcerers and leaders without compassion.
El Juicio Final
El Autor: Nació en Chinácota (Colombia) y su vida la ha vivido navegando entre los libros, hipnotizado por la búsqueda de la verdad, y sólo cuando el peso de sus dolores lo convenció de la inminencia de su muerte, decidió prestar su mente y sus manos para que los cadáveres fabricados por corruptos líderes hablaran. Descripción Breve: Un intento desafiante de mostrar las ocultas razones de una guerra, que es sólo el principio de una conflagración mundial, originada en los escritorios de una corporación que fábrica muerte. Descripción completa: Desde el primer orgasmo acaecido en las infinitas entrañas del cosmos, donde Dios y Satán no tuvieron nada que ver, pasando por la célula, y llegando al animal más tenebroso que haya pisado planeta alguno: El Hombre, quien creó la espeluznante criatura, hecha de palabras que subsiste fabricando guerras, asesinos, hambre y miseria: La Nación, en cuyo vientre los lideres amasan fortunas, llenando los cementerios de banderas corroídas por el dinero, que tiene más poder en la tierra que Dios en los cielos. Hasta que el hombre y sus muertos, cansados de esperar que Dios viniera con su Juicio Final, decidió adelantarlo, transformando las sonrisas de los lideres en dentelladas, cuando se vieron descubiertos por un lenguaje en que cada uno de los asesinados bajo sus ordenes, puso una palabra para horadar los cimientos donde retozaba el Estado y sus Ejércitos. Extractos: Página 12 ===================================================================
Corre el tiempo donde los muertos continuan esperando por el día de la resurrección, vivieron sus vidas sin preocuparse de las otras criaturas, porque hechiceros y lideres les decían que esperaran por el día de la resurrección que ese día la justicia llegaría. Mientras tanto, líderes hechiceros y sus marionetas, disfrutaban el placer de hacer lo que necesitaran hacer para vivir como reyes y tener el poder de Dios en la tierra, sin tener Ángeles pero teniendo ejércitos, mercenarios que a una palabra de aquellos que disfrutan la transformación del lenguaje en dinero, son capaces de matar y destruir la felicidad en el nombre de palabras y símbolos, pero no solo la felicidad, ellos destruyen la posibilidad de usar la razón, única diferencia entre la bestia y el humano. Ellos nos dejan tener opiniones pero solo en blanco y negro, aquellos que piensan en colores, necesitan ser transformados en cenizas, ellos dicen, y ellos usan cruces y fuego para quemar ideas y cuerpos, y para crear el confort para ellos y sus protegidos, ellos inventaron la guerra.
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