Wednesday, February 23, 2011

Incesto Gratis Italiano

HONESTY 'OF Moloch (or) of the Blessed nientitudine -11 -

but or blatant. blatant injustice. Injustice fair.

Our love for these lambs had become something so obsessive that my parents will not endure the hassle and decided to buy us (me and Imix, which was on duty at my house) a bell'agnellino. We kept him in the garden, tied to a tree trunk with a long, long thread. When went to find him, in fact, I Imix and he left his house we were immediately in front of the trunk, then, from there, instead of following the hunt as we used to do, following the thread. It was natural to call quell'animaletto Arianna. Hugged him, kissed him. Loved it. He was a lamb cloned, genetically modified. Until the last was always small, never became a sheep or a ram or a IRCO - we were missing! - Or a sheep or lambs chissacosaiddio become non-genetically modified, as adults, when they can. From birth until the death, was always the one who was, as was his pater-clone and how they were all his brothers-clones around the world, including, perhaps, why not? those who saw the man go through. All this group of animals was more of a family, a kindred. They were all the same great being, crushed and distributed in countless bodies ... But Arianna was Akbar, he recognized me, and Imix, and my parents and my smell, my caresses, our voice. The other lambs, no. None of the people of my generation never saw what it could become that animal, as they age. Maybe we were not even the same race, I and my friends? Or perhaps, simply, we're not all like that? Maybe. But now I feel - today - to belong to another great, new family, invisible, unknowable. Exterminated. Without you - really - no idea of \u200b\u200bhow it is related to me. Without being able to have any relationship with the other members of my new species, each other as far away as the stars. Out here in the cold space ... To see them (the stars) I climbed up a tower. Soared, magnificent, incomprehensible, above the fog. It was accessible only at night. It was not possible, nor advisable, sun exposure. Swept by a steady wind, breeze, which seemed to push the aldifuori moon in the sky, was one of my refuges. She was my den. Hidden. To light. That was.

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