Resumo de I Like To Speak About All The People Of Planet

I like to speak about all the people of planet, except of the USA, since according to Americans', there are the USA and the rest of the world. I have write "crab of Nicot, carcinome which pretty name" This subject is with the edges of the life and death, the mate and the existence. "Single is that which is to examine at the other the philosophy which can convenir."Lénine: Not, two steps ahead, a step behind. it is preferably the race against the clock. Time does not stop, it packs up while leaving you on the spot. It is like the autumn, a very conventional bronze; in front of you, malicious vines had to go up to the trees, giving to the chestnuts and the plane trees their colors of summer of the Saint Martin's day. Tender and wine-colour green bunches with the branches of the trees to an arm just above this bronze of Adonis. I raise my eyes towards the sky and I do not see any more the beautiful rainbow but only gray clouds, us thus immersed here in the uniformity. We enter in ' winter and the trees which were green, are not it now any more, they are in the melancholy. So much hoped snow, is not yet there. The small ones are aggravated, it puts to us in waiting. I carry my glance on wood and I see stars which undulate; indeed, of large white flakes start to fall with heat. The parents are happy to see their children content and playing without end on this large white cloth. I throw a last glance in the streets and I see that everyone is calm, we will have white Christmas, whole humanity however felt the cold. It is which wants to die to go to the Paradise, others which would like for nothing in the world living elsewhere than on ground. I form part of those which want to live over all - free so that it is not with the Paradise. I evolved/moved a long time in a vacuum of terms. That gave these embarrassments that I do not explain you! We walked to the letter, us, we found with a crushed date mouth! No palm plantation in sight... except that the pale one of my mouth started to type me on the principle while being transmitted to my wills. Blow, the palm plantation was not any more one mirage, houp! I saw it as if it were there! Obscure on light. Of letter in the long term of term to sentence, believing to revive my mouth of date mouth crushed while trampling on the palm plantation, I did nothing but cross ices, which, considering the reflexion of sands, put rather flat. Once all released letters their errors, i.e. the errors put flat, an image came to me: for lack of water, I went to seek the leaven.
Andre Rotella
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