Revulsive Stories 315j44

Table of Contents

Revulsive Stories

Miguel D'Addario

Revulsive | Stories

Miguel D'Addario

Revulsive Stories

Microstories

Miguel D'Addario

Foreword: Virginie Kernaonet Cover: Carlos Max Quotes: Andy Sanyasi European Community 2021 Index About the writer Miguel D’Addario Foreword to the edition About Virginie Kernaonet Exordium The Alien The Revolution of the Men The Writer Instructions to Kiss your Lover The King of the Idiots The Guillotine The Nose Watcher Gloomy soul The Iconodules The Man Who Awakened

A Restless Student Useful Fool The Coach Independence Cobblestone Openers The Division of the World Three states Eternal Sleep Colors The Laughter Artist Program The Elevator Dystopia Demigod Uxoricide

About the writer Miguel D’Addario

He's Italian. Has a degree in Journalism, Master in Sociology, and PhD in Social Communication from the Complutense University of Madrid. He has developed his experience in various fields of teaching, from Vocational Training to University level, both in Latin America and in Europe. His books are found in different study centers and libraries around the world, such as the San Pablo University of Peru, the University of Santo Domingo in the Dominican Republic, the University of San Gregorio in Ecuador, the University of Valencia, the National Library of Spain, the National Library of Argentina, University of Texas, Complutense University of Madrid, University of Toronto, Canada, University of Deusto, National Autonomous University of Mexico, National University of San Marcos (Peru), University of Illinois, University of Kansas, Libraries of the Community of Madrid, Castile and León, Andalusia, and the Basque Country, British National Library, Harvard University, and the Library of Congress of the United States. PhD and essayist, he has received awards and mentions from Writers' Associations, Cultural Centers, Universities, and related venues. Likewise, as Speaker, Lecturer, and Researcher, in universities, academies, educational centers, public and private. Author of artistic books: Poetry, Short Story and Stories. Author of educational books, of various levels and topics. Author of books on philosophy, ontology, and metaphysics. Author of Self-help and Coaching books. His books are distributed in the five Continents, are regularly consulted in Libraries around the world, and are ed in international catalogs, ISBNs and bibliographic bases. They are translated into multiple languages and can be found in international bookstores, both in paper format and in electronic version. Links where to find and/or acquire other works of the author: https://cutt.ly/2t1bmZv

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Foreword to the edition by Virginie Kernaonet Although the author has written more than a hundred books on different topics and in various styles, this book is very different from all the others. It is made up of micro stories where the themes are diverse: fantastic stories, social, psychological, educational, metaphysical, fictional or real. When I asked him, “How did the idea of writing this book come about?” The author replied, “I wanted to write stories that were not just stories, but extraordinary stories.” Each story has a message to decipher, although each reader will find their own reflection. What do they have in common? They are revulsive, annoying, irritating, provocative, infuriating, even ironic at times. In this way, the author appears as an agitator who will manage to shake us, confuse us, provoke a convulsion in our mind. All this for our good, to transform our reason, considering, above all, that the author is a professional coach. Each reader will take an active role. At first it may surprise us, but we will be trapped in search of the message, as it would happen in a puzzle. It is an invitation to reflect on very deep thoughts, where Miguel challenges our intelligence and our intuition. In the story ‘The Alien’, a being from another world arrives on Earth after a technical breakdown and conquers the territory. Do we have to accept the unforeseen circumstances in our life? Not leaving our comfort zone. Living in the present? How could the life of a conscious man be? There are so many divisions, so many conflicts in our world that we ask ourselves. What prevents us from living in harmony in our current society? Who are the crazy people? Do we have to change society or change ourselves? Questions that we will ask ourselves in the story ‘The Revolution of the Men’. Religion has always been a source of conflict. Are we free to think for ourselves? Is God just an object of worship?

Who is he? Is he so far from us? And if he does exist, why is there so much suffering in our world? Why act by doing good? Is God just and good at the same time? Why is life infinite and evolutionary? What is there before and after our life? How to reach a higher state? These will be questions that we will discover in the audacious answer of ‘A Restless Student’, or in the micro story ‘The Iconodules’. There are other more personal and realistic stories such as ‘Cobblestone Openers’, the title of one of the stories, and in turn the name of a journalistic brochure created by the author when he was a teenager, where ‘cobblestone’ (hard stone) is the human brain and ‘open’, the goal, which is to open sleeping brains. This compendium is a journey through wisdom, freedom, inner peace, dreams, love, and death as in ‘Uxoricide’. Where we can question ourselves, rattle our conception of the world, of life, unfold our spirituality, become aware that there is a moment of awakening, of being free to think in a different way. The author says, “Freedom is knowing oneself; it is evolving, it is transcending. Our life could be like a dream where you need to wake up. Or an endless journey like in the story ‘The Elevator’.” In these times of doubt, where everything shows us that the materialistic world leads us to failure, the scientific-spiritual path seems a possible way, a clue to explore the future of our humanity through evolution itself. Without falling into mediocre ivity as in ‘The Laughter Artist’, or in the scathing irony of ‘Instructions to Kiss your Lover’, nor in the excessive obsession of ‘The Nose Watcher’, or the alteration of justice as in ‘The Guillotine’. Victor Hugo said, "There is nothing more powerful than an idea whose time has come." We have the opportunity to benefit from the ideas of Miguel D'Addario, in order to achieve our inner evolution and improve our own world. This book of stories reveals itself as a doctor for the soul, towards an inner path, towards a possibility. Using intelligence, metaphor, and consciousness. Considering one of Miguel D'Addario's favorite phrases, “Your attitude is your destiny. Always.”

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About Virginie Kernaonet

French, graduated in Economic and Social Sciences; studied Tourism, and when she graduated, she decided to complement her studies with a European education, from which she graduated obtaining the HEDAM (Higher European Diploma in istrative Management) diploma. At the end of her studies, she worked at the Lyon airport as a Stopover Agent for the airline Air , and later in the Sales Department. Later, she dedicated herself to the care of her two daughters in French Brittany, working on her own for fifteen years in an international collectibles business, in the maritime and air sectors. She currently works as a judicial assistant, combining it with her participation in equestrian shows in a troop of professional riders. Her specialty is traditional archery on horseback with instinctive archery. Her close relationship with her horse, based on respect and trust, allows her to ride without reins, with the horse freely. She loves reading, especially books on philosophy and metaphysics. She practices Pilates, tireless traveler, participates in fashion shows, highlighting the work of two jewelry and clothing creators. She makes the design of advertising posters, teaches French online to foreigners. Translator of books from Spanish to French. The first book translated was ‘The Quantum Side of Your Life’ by Miguel D'Addario. “Translating is acting as a tightrope walker who has to find a middle ground between fidelity to the author's ideas and respect for understanding for the reader, in this other language. This phase of understanding allows to analyze in depth, to restore the highest possible precision. This work generates a great personal enrichment for me, allowing me to contribute my grain of sand. If my translation succeeded in expanding the dissemination of these ideas, it would make me feel very happy”. Exordium Revulsive is an adjective that has its etymological origin in the Latin word revulsum. This Latin word can be translated as "that produces a great change" and is the result of the sum of three clearly differentiated parts such as these:

The prefix “re-”, which means “backwards”.

The adjective "vulsum", which is synonymous with "torn". The suffix "-ivo", which is used to indicate a ive or active relationship.

The Royal Spanish Academy (RAE), in its dictionary, recognizes two meanings of the term, both linked to medicine. For the RAE, a revulsive drug or agent is one that induces revulsion. This concept, for its part, refers to the production of an inflammation of the mucous membranes as a healing mechanism. In this way, purgative substances and those that cause vomiting are revulsive. In colloquial language, the concept of revulsive is used with reference to that or that which is in a position to modify something. Revulsive, in this sense, is associated with revolutionary or agitator. However, the same term is also used to refer, for example, to cinematographic works, books, or even paintings. Thus, for example, there are different documentaries about the Spanish phenomenon of the 15-M Movement classified as such because they manage to stir consciences about reality. Many times, we speak of revulsive in the field of sport when we want to mention a player capable of changing the development of a match. Suppose that a football match takes place without goals, with a tie at zero. With the intention of modifying the functioning of his team, a coach decides on a change and brings in a player who, with his skill and speed, manages to dismantle the rival defense. This player ends up scoring two goals in twenty minutes and thus the match ends 2-0 in favor of his team. It can be said, therefore, that the player that entered was revulsive: he managed to break the existing parity and caused an imbalance in the actions. Therefore, a revulsive player is one who leaves the bench, who enters the field of play to replace a teammate and who does so in a very positive way since he revolutionizes the game of his team, makes it improve and achieves remarkable results this way. Revulsive, finally, it can refer to something that modifies the existing conditions: "Punk was revulsive for English society in the '70s". This is what this compendium of stories and short stories is about, the different

upheavals that occurred through abbreviated stories.

When a people shall have become incapable of governing themselves and fit for a master, it is of little consequence from what quarter he comes. George Washington

The Alien A being from other worlds was navigating the universe, bored with the routine of his planet. With all the intelligence and latest technology at his disposal. He used to wander through different galaxies and planets, discovering and meeting other universal beings. With thousands of anecdotes and experiences, anyone would think that they would no longer be able to discover anything new. But it happened that he deviated his course and found himself in the Milky Way; overwhelmed and lost, he decided to continue. "I'm sure I'll get out," he told himself. And he continued forward. Like any electromechanical process, it can fail, and the possibility of a breakdown in your flight machine could happen. And yes, it happened at an unexpected time. Then heading to Earth, he ended up in the Atlantic Ocean. And so, he propelled himself to one of the shores. He tried to seek help, but apparently no one lived on those coasts. It should be noted that the alien had a similar appearance to the human, with small differences, such as scales on the back, long nails, cartilage teeth, and a prodigious intelligence. Otherwise, there were no relevant differences. This is how he entered the continent, inhabited and colonized by certain humans, he later learned. Resigned, realizing that he could no longer repair his ship, he infiltrated among the humans and began a work of evolution on that continent. He groomed his nails, cleaned his scales, put on painted wood teeth, and hid his flight machine. Later he analyzed and became familiar with human behavior. Much is known about the related socio-political history because it was the year 1766, and ten years later the alien organized a revolt, led the troops and achieved the independence of the northern continent. And he was named president of that new country. Today the ship is still buried, the alien never had offspring and this truth was never known.

If the fool would persist in his folly, he would become wise. William Blake

The Revolution of the Men "The sane think that we are crazy, but that is not true because, although we go against the current, we tell the truth and work for an ideal world," says the constitutional preamble. The stories of normal people say that this happened in certain cities or at least in places where even today very few scattered men survive. Where certain people suffered from psychological illnesses: paranoia, schizophrenia, mass hysteria, and even chronic psychopaths. They also said that they called themselves "sane" and that they were made up of neighborhood organizations, cities, countries, and even continents. It is convenient, so that the reader understands, that they were human beings, apparently stereotyped, with normal trades, common loves, and simple personal relationships. There are, as proof of their existence, certain monuments, some writings and even traces and parts of cities that no one visits anymore, and it was there, in that place, where they settled. The writer of these lines has investigated the above but has only been able to find vague versions of the people who, they claim, really existed. As a result of the investigation, I transcribe in an extensive synthesis the result of this peculiar story. Any similarity to people that you know dear reader, is a simple universal correlation. Everything happened regularly, in a place in outer space, a galaxy, a planet, common places, and strange customs. You can judge if this is so. We can say that this organization of beings called humans, used to entertain themselves leading a very rare life, capable of worshiping elements of stone, wood, or cardboard, and arguing that they represented some gods. They even had, in an ancient past, several of these gods called ‘Olympian’. It was an extravagance to believe that they were ‘normal’, but whoever did not think or believe those enthusiastic details would be discriminated against,

banished, burned at the stake, crucified, stoned, buried alive, beheaded, or shot. Well, it may seem scary to you but today the survivors, they say, are still practicing what I just narrated. You may think that I am rambling, lying, or perhaps I am a storyteller, but that is the way it is, and as I say or write it, it happened. I will tell you more. They also point out that they kept wild animals in special places, called zoos, or in cages to entertain the crowd. Also, that some ate their pets, such as dogs, cats, or turtles. Imagine that people walked, in the case of zoos, through corridors where they could closely observe all kinds of animals, be they snakes, lions, elephants, etc. And for what? For the simple entertainment of people, that is, to violate the natural way of life to kill time looking at caged animals. But this story does not end here, dear reader. Some, the sanest, used heavy caliber weapons and, also for amusement, went out to deliberately kill them, ruthlessly, like someone who kills a fly or an ant. There were even those who made bets to see killings in fights with roosters, dogs, and other fierce critters. Also, those who killed in a closed place, certain Bos taurus or Bos taurus primigenius, which were sturdy animals that had horns and four legs, which were tortured and executed without a care, while the angry crowd applauded, shouted, and enjoyed it. There are others who put sea lobsters alive in boiling water, and those who used equines for their competitive careers or forced labor. But these ‘sane men’ did it thinking that they really were, and that the mad were those who were either against their attitudes or defending the violated victims. It is essential to clarify that the normal ones could create life systems where the most skillful - read the smartest - would be able to crush others to achieve their goals. That cynicism and indifference came together at the same point creating arrogant people with the profile of a wild mammal.

It is known that the sane worked up to 12 hours a day to earn a living, and then went out to walk through the shop windows to buy foods completely composed of fat between 60 and 70%, or certain drinks with 70% sugar, components that then clogged their veins, arteries, and heart, causing heart attacks and strokes, and it seemed that they unconsciously wanted death. The worst thing is that they lost their lives locked in 2x2 rooms, offices, workshops, places, during the 12 hours they did their work. And every day was a micro hell, always the same day after day, -infinite routine-, getting up, having breakfast, getting dressed, and going to work; to stick to a schedule to work on tasks they hated. Finish and go home. And for more misery, marriage. Marrying peers to live boring and wasted lives. Thus, they survived, every day of their lives. That is why there were some biology books to educate them, where they explained that sane or crazy humans: are born, grow, reproduce (when they can), and die. In addition, they carried out thousands of unfair trials with disproportionate punishments. Where there was excessive corruption and inability to govern. Privileges and arrangements. Also, male chauvinism and uncontrolled authoritarianism. A polluted, perverted, and decadent world, that of the so-called normal ones. This is how the so-called men finally decided to change the world. They began by taking the best of each religion, the best of each human being, the best of culture, and art. Each day they began to forge an ideal world, an anti-utopian dream, with proportions of love, comion, understanding, awareness of their own existence, and deep empathy. Conquering the creative side of humanity, banishing the pollution of the industries, the perversion of the mind, the toxicity of the emotions, which resulted in kind, loving, and transcendent attitudes. Each person developed their own idea, creating new ways of relating, new job alternatives, new ways of establishing communications, without manipulation, or speculation.

Politics disappeared, with it also the politicians or rather the political mind. Religions also fell, because God was transformed in daily experiences, each human being was a potential god, and miracles or representative images of empty and punishing gods were not needed. Because life was a miracle in itself. The existence became magical, the joy, the music, the dance, the meditation, the varied exchange flowed from one human to another. Love was free, kissing another human being was an important ritual, as well as eating healthy, without preservatives or dyes, without serially killing animals. The vices and addictions disappeared, and the social organization was carried out through computer programs that managed the boring s and distribution of tasks. There were no longer simulated slaves or excessive hours of work, each one collaborating for about four hours and then dedicating their time to creating other things according to their social and own needs. It was not an earthly paradise, but a simple organization and distribution, without uncontrolled obsessions or unbridled desires to obtain more and more money. It is valid to clarify that the money disappeared, and the acquisition was simply made through electronic money that was loaded into the s of all human beings, on the first day of each month. The production was simply limited to factories of necessary elements of consumption, which no longer produced toxic and chemical elements that were thrown into the sea or rivers, which destroyed maritime life. Meditation was their daily, everyday ritual, which made them more loving. It was not possible to steal, or get rich as was done before, with the normal ones, in a useless way and with the sole purpose of displaying wealth. Individual freedom was sacred, everyone said or wrote freely what they thought or felt, censorship was prohibited. Although most published stories, poems, or reflective writings. At first many published complaints, but they gradually disappeared as very few

read those writings. Then life was harmony and peace, love and joy, merriment and festivity. All of this was called the man's revolution. But because life was so glorious, so sublime, so balanced, and extremely harmonious and just, every couple wanted children, and even those same-sex couples paid others to adopt or acquire children. Birthing children was like an idiom that did not stop and progressed rapidly. And this psychosocial enterprise was so successful that the proportion of births was exponentially uncontrolled, in such a way that the population grew and grew unstoppably. And that is how the time of joy and fulfillment ed, then the demographic overpopulation increased rapidly, and this produced a hecatomb due to lack of food and space on Earth, and they began to die in masse from unknown terminal diseases, which were contagious and incurable. Finally, when there were no humans left on the face of the Earth, and after thousands of years, a new intelligent species was born on the planet, they studied the reason for the human extinction of the past. Their guide proclaimed, “Nature always balances processes, it is not possible to modify the order of things, much less the nature of each species. A human, they claimed, was a thinking mammal and as such must have lived and died, never having attempted to go beyond its nature.” After the speech, Homo Sabius locked himself in his capsule and teleported his body to his home that was on a tree in the jungle metropolis.

Some people never go crazy. What truly horrible lives they must lead. Charles Bukowski

The Writer The writer woke up one day thinking that he would start writing a great story. But he was not looking to write a horror story or a novel of those that sell millions and that do not leave any message; be it life, cultural, or social. No, he intended a real story, tangible, rough as stones, but at the same time volatile, sweet as honey, deep as a love story. Finding the muse was the most difficult, he knew that many authors have resorted to drugs, alcohol, or there are those who use some very unconventional inspirational methods. He preferred to wait for creativity to show up. Moving around, he wrote in his kitchen, then in the bathroom, and later his desk. Going from one place to another, falling in love with lovers, trying new culinary forms, buying new clothes, or expensive shoes, hats, watches, perfumes; watching inspiring movies that moved his emotions, and reading many inconceivable books. His search was constant and persevering; intense and uncompromising. Thus, he maintained and remained for a long time, exaggeratedly obsessive and disturbed. After eating he wrote a few lines, took a new sleep medication, showered, and went to sleep. As he dreamed, he suddenly found himself running in the rain, under a dark and cloudy sky, dressed in his Italian suit, high-quality leather shoes. And he plunged into a small lake among bushes, rapidly soaking half his body, and intentionally wetting his face. He shouted aloud, turning on himself and with his arms raised, "This is freedom!". That joy was what he was looking for his work, that maximum emotion, the point of ecstasy and bliss, the depth of that thought was the squaring of the circle, the philosopher's stone of literature, the essentiality of letters, the god of poetic art.

In that state of mind-emotion, he then dreamed and continued dreaming the best of stories, never told, never described, in a fantastic and sublime world, in realities never imagined, dreams not conquered, colors never created, and images never seen. Within his dream he tried to wake up, he tried to move his foot, and his head, he tried with his hand and his body, but he could not. Hours and more hours ed, and then days, and he did not wake up, he remained weakened in his bed. And within his own dream he understood that he was trapped in his insatiable desire, traveling in a permanent, hallucinatory, eternal dream. Then, desperate, he understood that he would never wake up, that his dream would be infinite, eternal, perennial, until the end of his life due to starvation. And that by not being able to get out of his dream, he could never tell his magnificent story in any of his writings.

For a glance, a world; for a smile, a sky; for a kiss... I do not know what I would give you for a kiss. Gustavo Adolfo Bécquer

Instructions to Kiss your Lover Above all, it is essential to have a lover. Without this requirement it would not be possible to follow these instructions. It will also be necessary to have a strong desire to kiss someone to achieve this goal. There will be no excuses if there is a mistake, an error, or failure in the attempt. Nor is it the responsibility of the person who writes these lines; far from it will be able to claim the pecuniary refund, that he will have disbursed for the value of this story. First, you must wet your lips with the front end of the muscular hydrostat located in your oral cavity, that is to say, what we commonly call the tongue. By moistening both lips you can feel a brief refreshment from the friction of the external air. You should feel your heartbeat rush a bit, the blood begins an acceleration process, the fingers of your hands swell, the pores of your body expand and your mind races very heatedly... imagining. If this does not happen, you will have to start over again or analyze if your partner is exactly the person for this act. If, on the other hand, you feel what I have just described above, then go ahead. With your left arm you should grab your partner in the middle of their back, drawing them towards yourself, that is, both bodies will move as close as possible towards a smaller space, you can force a little if you wish, pressing gently towards you. not to cause discomfort in your partner, it could freeze the situation. Once this is done, extend the time as long as possible and say something kind, for example, "I like your girlish (or boyish) gaze"; or also say, "I am attracted to the roundness of your lips". Next step, and with your right hand grab your lover, taking them by the upper

part of the elbow, that is, the lower part of the arm itself. Note that your suitor may feel uncomfortable in that position, say something more intimate, for example, "Your arm is a little cold". At the same time and saying the short phrase, bring your face as close as possible, at a distance enough that both of you can keep your eyes open. And that you can continue to observe each other. Do not try to kiss your conquered directly, first try to raise the temperature of the meeting even more, try by all means to not show that your breathing is accelerated, (it can transmit despair), but it is important that your gaze is like that of a happy, satisfied child. Do not kiss yet, slowly approach the edge of both lips, that is, the edge where the lower lip and upper lip meet. Very gently rest your cheek in that area and slide your face until the edges of your lover's lips also rest on yours, at that geometric point; do not despair and wait, the time of expectation is important to increase desire. Moisten your lips again lightly, and approach slowly, giving small and fleeting kisses until reaching the center of the lips to kiss, then slowly open your lips by 20 percent and touch your partner's lips with your tongue. The other party will react, and you will make a minimal suction on your lower lip, kissing and rubbing your lips on your partner's. To the response of the other party, you will continue kissing without despair with both lips and intertwining your tongue with that of your lover. The length of time at this point will really depend on the ion of both, and the fervent desire that will run through your blood vessels. Finally, and to change the moment, release their arms and take the back of their head with your left hand, gently, and with your right-hand rest it between their lateral neck, below their ear, and draw your partner even closer towards you. And , gently caress the base of their neck. Good luck to you with this tutorial, and do not forget that you will have to use a lot of saliva and excessive stoicism.

The art of government is the organization of idolatry. George Bernard Shaw

The King of the Idiots When arriving by the road, a large poster welcomed you, with a very popular phrase among those who thought in a certain way. That phrase said, "For every clever person, there must be ten fools". It is a unique story, given that it takes place in the modern age and where people elect their representatives through their vote; and behold, in this place, now disappeared, the people flaunted the presence of a king. A strange king who through his speeches managed to deceive the ignorant masses. They adored and loved him deliberately, in such a way that musical marches were created with lyrics included, and he was even considered a great father. But that is not all, the king practiced a colloquial nepotism, almost ridiculous, let's say like in the Middle Ages. Whereby his own decision he decided where he would live, how much he would collect from the treasury, how many employees he would have, he could choose his wife from among the diminished. This king had certain slogans, like Robin Hood he appropriated the profits of the rich, but instead of distributing them among the poor, he shared them with his henchmen who ruled with him. This is how the culture of non-work was imprinted, getting the most illiterate, lazy, and corrupted, (who were the majority), to establish themselves as workers in the first public positions of the state. It was not possible to contradict or oppose him, since the life of whoever did it would be in danger, or at least they would be exiled from the place. Their educational level was very low, too much, they barely reached a level 4 on a scale of 10, and it was very common for them to proclaim their "virtue" of being ignorant. And to every critic, they would try to correct, re-educate, advise, or sometimes they would be harshly attacked, imprisoned, or wrongly tried. Hanging his photos in schools, printing books with his mediocre advice, and disseminating criticism and punishment against any opponent or free thinker, were his favorite sports. Meanwhile, this king squandered the money that had long ago been accumulated with hard work, and he negotiated with pirates, the corrupt, militarists, and other infected hosts. In addition to accumulating money hidden in foreign banks for a future flight, in case the masses someday woke up. Also, some religious representatives showed their and followership for simple economic and political convenience.

His learning was acquired from other leaders of the same fashion, from certain repressive, sectarian, and ruthless mentalities, and from some extreme nationalists. They were clumsy at communicating and brutality was their way of relating. As a cultural "development", lying and pretending was the way of exchanging impressions with each other. All were gossipers, always ready to accuse the neighbor, a habit acquired from certain foreign dictatorships. Hypocrites and cynics; opponents used to say, "In the land of the blind, the one-eyed man is king". Pure childishness, coarse, dirty, little used to cleanliness, rude, and indolent, so they lived day by day in their poor everyday life. The English speakers called them: Little black head, by the physical simile with the Carduelis magellanica, a regional bird. The most intelligent isolated themselves or they went to other lands. Thus, the loyal followers of the king stayed in the cities of each region of the country, imposing their cultural form, their baggage of ignorance, and the habits of lazy and poorly entertained, definition of some local politicians. There was world chaos, a third nuclear war, many countries disappeared, others survived. But the king, along with his entourage, persisted, persevered, sustained themselves until the end of time in his almost empty palace, and many years ed, and everyone had already forgotten about this distant place, full of dead beings. Later, after some time, some American explorers arrived at the place, who entered the destroyed palace and found some bodies embracing each other. The travelers looked at each other and pointed to the hand of one of the corpses, and one of them said loudly, "Look at that one, the one with the great gold ring, that was the king of idiots".

The secret of freedom lies in educating people, whereas the secret of tyranny is in keeping them ignorant. Maximilien Robespierre

The Guillotine — “They are like a plague, unpredictable, ignorant, insipid, and scathing. They will cleanse your joy, assassinate your positivity, banish your vitality, suck your exhilarated blood, and destroy your love for life. They are: The unhappy. You can recognize them if you look closely if you stop and bring your nose closer. They are everywhere, walking, buying, selling, lying”.

— “But you will have to be careful because they will deceive you, they will screw you up, and you will believe each one of the things that they falsely predict. Their economy, their religion, their social structure, their political systems”.

— “They have no love, no light, and no peace; they simply feed on money, your sweat, and territorial conquests”.

— "Think before following these people, because their existential emptiness will drag you into the swamp of unhappiness and eternal misery".

— "I wish you luck and give you a lot of light and cosmic energy".

The executioner slowly approached the prisoner, untied the knot of the taut rope and released it; a quick, friction squeak sounded through the silence of the crowd, then the guillotine blade slammed down when it reached the end. The crowd began to disperse very slowly.

He that has a great nose, thinks everybody is speaking of it. Thomas Fuller

The Nose Watcher Once upon a time, there was an incorrigible observer, a rampant onlooker, an uncontrolled analyst, an implacable obsessive, who always went through his life observing the noses of living beings, especially the faces of beautiful women with remarkable noses. His biggest success, too, was finding both perfect noses and overly amorphous noses. Every living being that ed him was closely observed by this obsessive snooper. Soft, Roman, or Greek noses, with much lateral flight or very thin, excessively protruding or too small. An expert at analyzing snouts. Looking and looking, analyzing and concluding; this is how this nose detective spent his life, extracting and imagining other noses in the same face. One day, he saw a sublime nose, a straight line, a perfect triangle. The nose was balanced, symmetrical, proportionate, and with a very soft skin. A nose with the exact protrusion, free of deformations, and graceful with a concordant size. And that was how the nose observer fell madly in love with her, in such a way that he decided to kiss her, breaking all the rules of social ability, and the rules of coexistence of urbanites. The young woman, possessing such a lofty nose, jumped back, panicked, and lunged at the snooper, giving him a slap that knocked over the obsessed observer. Today, it is known, say the neighbors of the neighborhood, that a lip watcher travels the world, someone who was once a nose worshiper.

When I'm among men, I pretend to be mad. Diogenes of Sinope

Gloomy soul Many years ago, there was a human being, a man who was classified by the neighbors of a town, as the gloomy man. He was so gloomy that his soul decided to leave his body. Tired of so much darkness, pride, and so much sordidness, one day she broke the laws that kept her inside that body. Breaking the gravity that held her, she forced her fit inside the body and managed to free herself. She had already experimented with other bodies: pedophiles, serial killers, executioners, perverse judges, corrupt politicians, tyrant kings, speculative economists, military torturers, serial killers, pimps, and even drug traffickers. It is well known that after a period, a certain time; if a soul cannot evolve, it is finally banished from the universe, that is eliminated from the reincarnation process of cosmic existence. Therefore, there are several possibilities in this mechanism of bodily transfer from one human to another. The gloomy soul, aware of this, re-attempted its last reincarnation round, its last existential move, and finally decided to insert itself into the body of another human being, a ruler, a dictator, named Benito Mussolini.

In individuals, insanity is rare; but in groups, parties, nations and epochs, it is the rule. Friedrich Nietzsche

The Iconodules Mystical or messianic delusion: Psychiatry. It is when the patient feels that he is communicating with God, or with the saints, or thinks that he has a mission of a religious and salvation nature to do in his life.

It is commented in the corridors that they still exist. And it is not the iconoclasts who argue this, but reality itself. It is important to highlight that the iconodules are worshipers of images made of stone, wood, papier-mâché, plastic, or other construction materials; because, as they affirm, it is the representation of their gods or loved ones. Very similar to fetishists. It is also said that they worship certain people who one day said they were children, direct descendants or chosen by some god. But let us bear in mind that these gods never made an appearance, nor have they manifested themselves directly and indirectly. Knowing the human being and their ability to sell themselves or sell certain products; it is necessary to clarify that materialism is one of the foundations, if not the first, for which humanity lives and still survives. Therefore, and considering the group from which these ideas come from, (if it can be called that), we must recognize the influence of iconodules on the ignorance of people who have simplistic psychology and who function as the minds of sheep. And, on the other hand, that their bases have been created or founded, by a magnanimous empire of old times. And that currently and since those devotions were created, their gods never came out to manifest themselves or to proclaim any valid argument to be credible. Of course, the game consists of the existential doubt of every human being, such as: Who created us? Who created the universe? And other questions. And it is from here that the opportunists who will claim their truths will be born, and as good thinking mammals the idea will finally be imposed first by force and then through permanent diffusion, because always, always there will be the doubt: Which of all the gods created everything in existence? But since a single god was not enough, demigods were created, special beings, winged beings, magicians, miracle workers, intermediaries, demigods, and other inhabitants of the great comedy of the Iconodulism. Obviously, to convince the masses it was necessary to create earthly representations, since in the absence of presenteeism of these entelechies it is not possible to prove that they really exist, therefore, it would only remain to create images, as I clarified before, of the necessary material. The (interior) poverty, for which all these people have been signed, and who are in the majority, is discovered in their favorite phrase: "God will provide"; and this makes each one sit and wait for their god to provide. But it turns out that God, or whoever really created this universe, already provided enough elements or resources for the subsistence of the species on the planet. And lo and behold, it follows that those who are iconodules are, above all, lazy, that is, they are not very creative or dull, of few ideas and little vitality. Worshipers of death, they maintain the constant repetition of the tortures of their gods or demigods and others; arguing, from

their mental laziness, that one day all those who die will resurrect, without thinking or understanding the nature of human existence. They are capable of mixing politicized ideas with the wildest and most trivial arguments. Childish and irresponsible, they travel the world without analyzing one once of their conclusions, and that is because they are governed by simple basic, repetitive, and impetuous emotions. And the more ignorance, the more adoration of papiermâché. And of course, the iconodules can never discover themselves, evolve internally, because they believe they have the table set, ready. And they will never understand that they are deceived and swindled by the domain of the day that seeks to subjugate them. Because, to conclude, the logic of iconodules is based on falsehoods that only some displaced brain could believe. Understandable reason why, in those lands where they live, there is a propensity to corruption and the continuous generation of political-social instability. Now I that there were other iconodules that worshiped other gods with superpowers over earth, sea, air, love, and even lightning; and today they do not exist. Therefore, today I will sleep peacefully.

It is an irable thing that all great men always have some vanity, some grain of madness mixed with their science. Molière

The Man Who Awakened He was someone ordinary, another human being, a supernumerary. He would get up early to work, have breakfast, get dressed, wash his face and go to the office. Always with that permanent routine. It was never in his plans to improve his life, he reasoned: "I work until I retire and after a while it will be my turn, like everyone else, to die." He had a wife and two grown-up children, he was never unfaithful to his wife, he never partied, and his few friends were very casual, no racehorses, cars, bars or partying. Maybe a chat, a meeting at the house of one of them, a lunch, little wine and a lot of talk about football and politics. Thus, the days of his life ed, without looking for anything special, on the verge of routine neurosis, bored with his repeated and monotonous life. He never had money, he had a very rickety old car; and his wife, his friends claimed, was moderately acceptable in beauty. Life did not treat him badly, nor did it treat him well; because despite everything, he never suffered from deficiencies, or hunger, or suffered from diseases of any kind. He just existed, without quibbles or distress. One day he asked himself: "Am I a lucky man, or am I a resigned person?" He never answered his own question. Since he never went on vacation, he simply stayed home. On holidays he was not supposed to go to work, he was bored without knowing how to the time. And he did merely nothing, just watch his wife cook, clean, and sweep. In such a way that with so much boredom there was not even desire or attraction in the couple's relationship. One afternoon his wife went shopping at the market. After a while, while he was sitting in the living room of his house, he observed that a police car parked in front of the entrance gate.

An officer descended and approached the door, hit the gate with his nightstick and shouted: "Anybody home?" Quickly, he got up and headed towards the entrance hall. "Yes, tell me, officer, what do you need?" He asked quickly. "You're Mr. David?" "Yes," he replied, "it's me." "Well," said the officer, "I have come to inform you that your wife suffered a car accident and has just entered intensive care unit, she is in the municipal hospital. It's very serious." Quickly, Mr. David ran into his house and changed his clothes to go to the hospital. Upon arrival, the general practitioner gave him the bad news, his wife had ed away ten minutes ago. He collapsed into a chair, taking his head with both hands, in a state of profound distress. He yelled, "So much taking care of everything to end up like this." One morning one of his friends came to Mr. David's house, a friend named Abel, who came to give greetings for the spring. They both sat down, and Abel said to him: "I've brought you something to drink." "What is it? Liquor?" Snapped David. "Something like that," Abel said. And he took out a small bottle, the size of a cigar. He then uncovered the mini bottle and asked for two liquor glasses. And David quickly went for them. Something strange would begin to happen, while he was pouring the liquid into the glasses, it was falling like a waterfall, a bluish metallic fluid, shiny, with incredible slowness, as if it were outside the laws of gravity, with a lot of viscosity or little fluidity. And the strangest thing is that apparently, upon with the air, the fluid began to give off a strange perfume, which caused David to change his gaze and involuntarily begin to smile.

Abel set the liquor glasses on the table in the living room and the liquid did not stop moving and began to bubble, as if asking to be drunk at once. Abel raised his glass, looked at David, and said, "Now is the time." And he drank it in one gulp. David, not to be overdone, also took it in one sip. Both felt very strongly a deep burning in the entire digestive system, on the path that the abnormal fluid made through their throat, esophagus, and the stomach. Suddenly, everything began to transform, the table, the glasses, the chairs, the floor, the house, the window, the landscape, everything began to take on vivid, metallic colors. And when David looked at his friend, he was already dancing to the rhythm of a very moving music that it was not possible to perceive from where it was emitted. And a voice, still further away, said: "Now you are free, you are free, you are free...". For the first time David felt that he was alive, everything was wonderful, his own life, his story, he felt important, blissful, happy. Everything was indescribable, immeasurable, eternal, wonderful. There was no reality, no lie, no boredom. Everything was exponential and growing. The images, the colors, the figures. Everything was joy, peace, and deep love. Thus, they danced, sang, shouted, and saw with the eyes of the mind and their biological eyes what no one could ever see. Until finally both vanished into an embrace, disappearing with the environment that surrounded them and the habitat that they had created with their crazy minds. A vaporous and colorful halo emerged from their volatile bodies. When the scientific police arrived at the house, the walls, the floor and everything were impregnated with colors. It was no paint or colorants, but everything was multicolored and polychromatic brilliance. They took the cups that still contained the rest of the strange liquid, and then analyzed them in the laboratory.

One of them stated, "It is a DNA chain, they look like biological cells, but it cannot be distinguished whether animal or vegetable or something else. The chain is made up of spiral staircases and the nucleotides are normal, they have three units, but they are different or unknown to those we know today." A second scientist replied, "Three parts? Like the Law of Three?"

Madness is the origin of the exploits of all heroes. Desiderius Erasmus

A Restless Student Like any other day, the teacher entered the classroom smiling forcibly, although she did not like her class too much, she tried to ensure that everything went smoothly. She began her philosophy class talking about the gods of all time, arguing and recounting how the people of yesteryear worshiped these gods who were all powerful, something that today -she affirmed- made us laugh. At the same time, she speculated that, in the notso-distant future, the people of that society would also laugh at the gods and current beliefs. Patricia was the name of the teacher, she continued her pedagogical conversation pointing out the mutation of humanity from polytheism to monotheism, thus emphasizing the influence of religion in different human cultures, as well as the interference in political and economic issues, and considering the rivalry between different monotheistic religions. Saying, "Let's see which of the gods is the most relevant or true both in the creation of the Earth and in its divine 'functions'." Suddenly she began to ask the students, thinking that with a counterpoint of questions she would be able to develop greater capacities in the students themselves. This was established by the main purpose of her master class and her pedagogical methodology. At random she asked Germán, a student who was quite lazy but very clever at the same time. "Is it possible to prove the existence of god?" Patricia inquired. "Yes," said Germán, "but in a generic sense, that if I think about it from the standpoint of someone creating me, I have no choice but to point out a creator. If I analyze it from the injustices that happen in the world, the people who die mercilessly, the things that humans can do: hunger, pain, massacres, wars, stupid things, the suffering of children, madness made both by politicians and by religious people or representatives of religions; because even normal people are also capable of murder, of outrageous hatred; and not to mention the destruction

of our own planet polluting it, ending forest and animal life, extinguishing species and destroying the seas and native civilizations. And I clarify," he reaffirmed, "that if God existed and there was someone who argued that everything I have just related is done because the human being must evolve, their soul-, through pain, then we are facing an imperfect god who cannot do everything. And if it were not so, it would skip these test steps and create evolved beings, without having to through the filter of these 'evolutionary' experiences." The class held a gloomy silence, as if they were lacking air. All the students held their breath, no one said a single word. Suddenly the teacher broke the silence and said, "This means that God is just and good, because according to your story there is a balance in the search for human evolution based on suffering; for this it is fair. And it is good because it gives humanity the opportunity to transform, to live, to exist, to become more than just a mammal." Germán stared into her eyes and snapped, "That assessment that you make is a mistake, a very serious error of religions, which say that God is good and just at the same time. Nobody can be good and fair at the same time because if you commit a sin, -read as a sin an unfavorable action, for example killing-, God will be fair and mechanisms will be activated that will cause there to be a consequence, and that is established as it says Newton's Law: "That every action has an equal and opposite reaction", and that will also apply to human acts. Then God will be just because of the automation of human acts; but if it were good, it would have to modify those same laws that are already established in advance, and it would correspond to modify them. Therefore, God is always just, and not kind, and that is why we see the existential anguish of humans, simply because God is just." The class began to applaud heatedly, the teacher rephrased her arguments, and when the bell rang, she said, "Next week we will have a practical work on Buddhist philosophy."

Show me the normal man and I will cure him. Carl Jung

Useful Fool In some parts of the world, in certain political and/or religious organizations, and from a sociological-philosophical point of view, certain people who play a disposable role are often called 'useful fools', that is, people who will be a useful and malleable instrument, at the mercy of certain interests and ideological conditioning. But this is the case of a useful fool who, thinking himself very clever in front of others, and having had at his disposal a certain acquired power, as I will detail below, ended up in the jaws of sinister and dark characters, of certain banners with very populist and of massifying ideas. He was a public employee, and as is known anywhere on the planet, public employees or civil servants, for the most part, carry the reputation of being people who have already played all their creativity at the disposal of the labor market, boring and monotonous people, gray and aggressive, unable to accelerate their neurons, entourages and lovers of bureaucracy and useless paperwork; featured especially in certain developing countries; infected, begging, and even worshipers of easy fixes. Capable of lying by the job and betraying; murmurs, hallelujahs, lovers of betrayal and addicted to infidelity to their spouses with their co-workers and neighbors of the neighborhood. But, this useful fool, life would put him to the test, when one of his co-workers fell ill and was falsely accused of having invented said disease; his bosses did not recognize his medical documents. Thus, this employee had lost his job. Of course, the hand of the useful fool was there, pushing with his lies; since its slow functionality loaded with mediocrity would do the rest, taking advantage of the fact that the other bureaucrats believed his lies out of fear, convenience or some interest. But one morning the useful fool woke up and realized that he was blind, and he heard around him that there were people murmuring, he felt that his chest did not beat, and he realized that he was in a closed bag, he could not move, although he tried. Suddenly he heard a voice say: "He died suddenly, life is very unfair, he was so young."

I can calculate the motion of heavenly bodies, but not the madness of people. Isaac Newton

The Coach The word Coach derives from some languages such as French, English, and Greek, although in Spanish it means 'trainer'. It was applied, at first, to the world related to American football practice. Later it was used in the techniques of personal, psychological, educational orientation, assertive, sociological, among others. The coach in this story was a specialist in very hard cases, of people who were too psychologically and sociologically upset. That morning he learned that a known neighbor, someone that people have known in their lives, had been detected a terminal illness, and he said to himself, "They are cases in which people cross very red, very deep lines, where a Coach can no longer intervene." He later learned that this person was itted for chemotherapy and radiotherapy treatment. Although it was to be expected that the results depended on many factors, the Coach continued in his personal life beyond this situation. Knowing that the case had worsened, he decided to collaborate with their families, talking to them and trying to persuade that life goes on. Although he had already warned them that money is not the most important thing in life, and that if someone loses the desire to live, the universe will take away their livelihood. A few days later, the patient died, and his wife spoke with the coach. She was crying uncontrollably, to the point of extreme pain, and he tried to comfort and transform her pain, with positive messages. On the third night after the death, the deceased appeared to the coach in his dreams. The deceased was simply smiling. And they walked together in silence briefly. Thus, the coach knew, beyond the domain of his science, that the deceased was on his way to the other dimension in a favorable way.

We are all born mad. Some remain so. Samuel Beckett

Independence Some countries evolve. Their economy, their education, their relationship with the world, their emotional intelligence, their social ability, and other fields. Other countries, on the other hand, like the country that I will analyze, the opposite happens to them, they regress. Any country that regresses, logically, will tend to disappear. As has already happened with many countries in the world, since the existence of division and borders. Evolution is the fundamental factor in this analysis, because everything in the universe is evolutionary. A plant will be a flower or a fruit; an animal will grow and reproduce, a human will have an inner evolution until they become a transcendent individual. Similarly, social, religious, and economic systems will undergo the process of evolution or not. From here, it can be deduced that countries are also making progress. But not all do. A country grows or it doesn't, and that will depend above all on its economy and its education, then and from there the other classes will emerge. But in this country, the people were hampered, their beliefs, their thoughts. They worshiped a former dictator; their customs were barbaric and gloomy. They used very archaic methods to relate to each other, people greeted each other little, there were false accusations, betrayals, and corruptions. Everything worked like this. And as in any evolutionary system, when one part stops in that process, there will be another part, from the same place, that will try to continue with that process. Fact, the latter, which had already happened in other countries. The people of this country blindly believed that they were independent, that certain liberators broke the invasive yokes of other countries. And they even loved these heroes educated in invading countries and belonging to a cult that is responsible for deg the world to likeness.

Time would mark its disappearance. And that's exactly what happened. After a medium-term, many regions became independent when they saw that the central government did not evolve. Until finally said country was reduced more and more until it was a simple infertile and desert territory. And one day it disappeared. Evolution will always, in any area of life, impose its times and its forms.

Ten thousand crazy people put in a heap does not make a reasonable person. Arthur Schopenhauer

Cobblestone Openers I was born in Nunez, a neighborhood of the capital of Buenos Aires. I am Italian by choice and descent. When my father Michele ed away, my story changed. When M. Ripoll, a school tutor, recommended me, I was in 6th grade. Elementary school grade. It was my to an important Institute, an English school located in the province of Buenos Aires, in the town of Pilar. There, I received a scholarship to continue my secondary studies. And since they said that I had intellectual capacity, I was sent before I finished primary school, to attend the 7th grade corresponding to the last year of said studies. And that was how, - I must it - when I entered the Institute my destiny had changed. Given that I would dedicate myself, for 6 years, to study industrial mechanics, something that I did not feel like at all. But it was at this school that my story with Cobblestone Openers began. The educational demand was very intensive, with demanding teachers, full schedules, practical workshops, and Saturdays dedicated to physical education. All this, for me, was simple, because, although I was frequently absent, I had also occupied the honor roll. Since I am ionate about studying and I had very good grades that I achieved with little effort. The most dangerous thing was not the school, but the reality of the country. This story is born as a result of a comment from Complutense students who made on the blog that I had a few years ago and where I told the story of Cobblestone Openers: a journalistic lampoon. Also, later it became a mini publishing house where I published a book of my own.

So, the students sent me about ten questions which I answered and posted on my blog. But I will tell the story, which is very rich in of how people lived in those leaden years. It was the year 1979, and a very ardent dictatorship was taking place; I was already in my senior year, I was a teenager. Always, since I reason, I have written essays, poetry, stories, and tales, although I did not know why I was writing them. This is how, over time, I had formed a music group where we wrote songs and musical compositions, in addition to interpreting other authors. After making friends with other students from the town of Pilar and some fellow students, we decided to make a lampoon, a magazine with few pages where we could capture our writings and disseminate them. The writings were somewhat philosophical, or poetic. But since we had no political education, we did not write about the current issue of the moment and the reality of the country. Nor did we know what we were facing realizing our little dream of printing the writings and disseminating them. And it was in this way that a group of students who once wanted to say something else, in an intelligent and very ironic way, things would happen to them incomprehensible to the people of more developed countries or free countries. So, we began to write with the illusion that others would read us; that maybe the students at other institutes would get some copies and they would want to know who those I students were who wrote those things. We thought of the title of the lampoon, and finally we decided to call it Cobblestone Openers; because cobblestone, as is known, is a square stone used for paving the streets, and given its hardness it comes to represent the human brain of certain people. Our function would be that, through the lampoon, we could open the brains that were asleep or not thinking. We also thought of a scathing editorial direction for print, with creative riddles

and puzzles. We put together the written material, and first we made the original, putting together parts and scraps of letters and with an old mimeograph we printed about six pages and began the distribution by hand. In total about 300 copies were printed. Already launched, and as there were people who wrote to us at the Institute asking questions and mitigating doubts, we went for the second edition with the same procedure, and this time we made about 500 copies. In total we got to make three editions. And it was when we started the distribution of the third edition that a knock on the door of the room that we used in the Institute where a guard appeared together with army personnel, specifically the Morality Brigade. We looked at each other, we were scared, and we asked what was happening. Immediately afterwards, they entered, took the boxes with the lampoons and asked us to accompany them, and that's how it was. So, we were held up for a few hours in a town police station, and since we were minors, they could not arrest us or accuse us without the intervention of a juvenile judge. Under his threats we returned to the Institute and there, Rector PB would put us in his sights as possible 'troublemakers', I suppose it would be for thinking, because it is obvious that a military dictatorship cannot be a creative entity. And knowing, later, the atrocities committed by those people. We had lost our innocence, without time to analyze, and we were thrown into reality. But I never stopped, I never stopped writing. Because I continued making more leaflets, a few years later, in public libraries, doing recitations in municipal theaters and even publishing my books in any form and manner with others or my own publishers. Because Cobblestone Openers was like an instrument to open the blocked or mutilated mind. And it was forbidden because it taught to think, to discern, to understand, to dream. The message is for people who do not follow their dreams, who abandon their goals and who leave on the path of their lives what they want to do and do not achieve it at the first obstacle. And useful to learn that the vicissitudes in life serve as food for our desires, to achieve the objectives that we come to fulfill on this planet; therefore, you should never stop opening the paving stone. Never.

Tis the times' plague when men lead the blind. William Shakespeare

The Division of the World In a time not calculated, the world divided into two groups of people: the educated and the uneducated. And this happened even though there were no longer grounds for discrimination. Humans had already understood that we are all equal, that there was no reason to discriminate against others, be it because of skin color, ideas, politics, or socioeconomic classes. Yes. All of this had already disappeared. The human had evolved so much that it was not possible that there were differences of any nature. Neither the discrepancies between men and women: same rights, same obligations, and same opportunities. It can be asserted that it was an ideal world, a happy and harmonious planet. Where everything was joy and delight. But human DNA was still human. And lo and behold, since not all had the same professions, a differentiated escalation began. There were many professions and so many trades, and each one made a difference, despite the fact that each one obtained different economic returns and the social system was in charge of balancing that all obtained more or less the same amount of money. But even so there was no way to tear from the genetic entrails of the human being that subtle difference that manifested itself more and more in daily relationships. Difference that was constantly in crescendo until reaching high peaks of confrontations between the whole of humanity. It was then that those educated at high university levels created ghettos and isolated themselves from the rest and made alliances with people with undergraduate and intermediate degrees. Graduates of secondary, tertiary and higher education also ed in, and the trades of greater intellectual commitment, such as banking, lawyers, engineers, senior technicians, politicians, liberal trades, and others.

And on the other side were those without degrees in any science, the functional illiterates, those with primary studies, some high school graduates, various unskilled trades, and certain public employees. Later, there was a pitched battle with homemade weapons, clubs, axes, knives, and small pistols. And after a time of vicious struggles, the most educated won. The most prepared soon realized that without the least prepared at their mercy, they would not be able to survive; they had to think of some urgent solution. And that's how they created religions, television, soccer, reggaeton, dictatorships, fast-foods, vegetable soup, best-sellers, populism, junk education, brutality, and ignorance. Today the world continues oblivious to this history, divided, -as I pointed out at the beginning-, between the educated and the uneducated.

Each person is a unique manifestation of the whole, since each branch is a particular extension of the tree. Alan Watts

Three states The social communication Professor MD came to the classroom early, settled in his chair and waited for the students to enter. At the beginning of class he said, "Today I will talk about why life is infinite and evolutionary." A student said, "What's that about, prof.?" "Many people," the teacher began, "live without ever realizing that life has processes and that these began long before birth, even long before the intention or desire of each pair of parents to gestate each human being. And in this analysis, we are all included all of us. That is why I have decided to call this class 'The Three States'.”

Sperm and ovum

“The first stage happens long before birth, and it happens when the parents decide to carry a child. There the first possibility of being born occurs, infinite possibilities of being what each one is. Although we know that nobody decides where to be born or when to be born, and neither does the physical form and even the degree of intelligence and other issues that I already explained in other classes and that are not part of this talk. And it is then, in this first point that, considering the desire of both parents to be realized; and it will happen that a million spermatozoa will run a marathon race, considering their size and the proportion of the distance to cover, although there is a propelling force that will help in their so deserved trip. But let's bear in mind that this race towards the ovum, which is impatiently waiting to be fertilized, is a state. Yes, I said it correctly, it is a state, a state of the human being. And pay attention, it is a state that no one, absolutely no one, and I include myself, no one of this class or rather no one on this planet

re, nor ed nor will ever . So, the first state ed by each human is not ed by anyone. And furthermore, the primary form of the tailed and rounded tadpole ovum disappears forever, that is, they die in transformation. And... Do any of you commemorate having carried such a long tail? Or having ran that race so madly?”

Fetus and birth

“Once the zygote is achieved, the second transformation begins, and as you will suppose it is the second state of every human being. And the development of a fetus immersed in an amniotic fluid begins, where it will develop for nine months, -although it may be less months, in some cases-. There, all of us remained imive, developing the body, mind, senses, organs, limbs, skull, vital organs, sexual, digestive system, etc. Without breathing, feeding through an umbilical cord, hearing, feeling, perceiving, in absolute darkness, immersed, waiting. Every day of that state, depending on another human, their stress, their moods, their addictions or not, their fears or not, their joys or not. Until finally one day, through the pain of childbirth, each of us was born a second time, with another form, with another body, without a tail or a tadpole shape, but with a renewed form, a project of homo sapiens, insecure, fragile, weak, dependent, clumsy, and unconscious. With the ability to breathe and make sounds, after so much silence. All this happened, too, to every human being on Earth, and yet we know it because we have learned it in school, on TV, or in documentaries. But never because some human re it. No one ever re that state, apart from having lost all the conditions of the second state.

That is, after each of the components that kept us protected for nine months have died, nothing will remain in our memory.”

Life and death as a human

“And we are born with this body. Which we develop, educate, bathe, feed, satisfy. And that also feels, thinks, and acts. And then we arrive to where everyone is right now, in this class, or when someone reads this writing. To this great placenta called Earth, where we breathe, feed, and exist. It does not matter how old each one is, it is important to understand it. Incredibly, and if I analyze the previous states, we can deduce that it will not be the last, because the premise of the two previous states is fulfilled; and it will turn out that the body acquired, as before, will also die, and therefore all that we are, we will lose. And surely in the future fourth state, which will be with greater awareness than this third, we will not that we were here on Earth doing everything we did; although it is valid to conclude that what we did in the third state will be very useful in the supposed fourth state, in the same way that what we learned in the two previous states was relevant. It is like unconscious learning, which functions as the current sixth sense. Because obviously whoever programmed each of the states said to themself, "I'm not going to turn crazy those who are moving from one state to another state; so then, no one will the previous states." Finally, I have to say the bad news, and it is that in each state -from the first to the third and the following assumptions-, not all will be able to reach the age to the fourth level, because much will die on the way; or they will be lost, due to different circumstances, in the attempt to cross. Therefore, and I am finishing, all of us are in the third state, and it is very likely that many of us will not reach the fourth state... We have finished the class."

This is how Professor MD gave his master class leaving 25 university students stunned.

The best way to make dreams come true is by waking up. Paul Valery

Eternal Sleep Everyone dreams, in the earthly biological world. Men, mammals, birds, reptiles, fish, and other animals. But it has been discovered that in turn every living being is dreamed. It is an infinite chain, because at this moment you are reading this story, but keep in mind that when I wrote it, I was being dreamed by another being, who may not necessarily be human, perhaps it was the dream of an animal being, an alien from another planet, or maybe a simple ant. Understand me, when you dream, you create a story, with a beginning, a plot and an end; but at the same time that being that you are dreaming, also dreams and so on infinitely. But at the same time, you are being dreamed, and the one who dreams you in turn is being dreamed, and so on. In other words, it is infinite backwards as well as forwards. And know for yourself that it never stops and that it is never possible to stop dreaming. When we wake up and stop dreaming, our characters die. That is why, when you die, you stop being dreamed about. Think about it. What were you before being dreamed about? Nothing absolutely. And what will you be when they stop dreaming about you? Nothing. Do you understand? I want to clarify to your possible doubt that dreams are never unfinished, what really happens is that people do not their dreams, and in some cases, they prefer not to them. And if a dream is recurrent, that is, if someone dies in their dream and reappears in another, it is nothing more than a recovery of their dream character, like a sleepy reincarnation. Well, it seems that whoever is dreaming me wants to finish this story, and you

who are reading this story, and who belongs to the same dream, I will tell you that we will leave the scene shortly because our dreamer is about to wake up. Best regards.

There are things in color that come to me while I paint, big and intense things. Vincent Van Gogh

Colors People have colors, they are those colors that shine through their skin. It is like a surrounding golden area around them, especially on their faces, because that is where the color accumulates, depending on their inner state. There are gray, blue, green, yellow, red, black, and even white. Also, a series of variable and oscillating tonalities. People can also expand through other objects, becoming paintings, words, songs, stories, and even dance. The transformation, from one color to another, can come from certain moods, from certain ideas and principles. But, above all, of the essential energy of our body... the soul. It is very convenient to bear in mind that people's colors determine their intrinsic and deep processes in their life. Thus, each one can create their life, their destiny, their goals, their achievements, their love, their joy. And there will be, then, for each situation, a certain color. It is said, "A man is green, he has black emotions, he turned red, he is purple, or he became very white." Although these are simple metaphors and not real colorful states. For this reason, many artists can undergo a metamorphosis from their own colors and manifest themselves in front of others through their works. And some painters can bleed through their works, losing colors, and hues. You can even see, on the walls of the universe, galaxies, nature, rivers, flowers, walls, etc., thousands of scattered colors that are released by each body that dies in each of the existing worlds.

Even indisputably intelligent laughter is sometimes repulsive. Laughter calls first of all for sincerity. Fyodor Dostoyevsky

The Laughter Artist It was winter outside, and it was snowing. The coats hung on the racks in the lobby of the theater entrance. The empty streets, without cars, drenched in sleet and cold water. Some footsteps sounded in the distance, a police car circulated watching, the sex workers walked quickly, tapping their heels and peeking through their dark glasses. In the room the audience remained in deathly silence. Everyone was watching the artist, who, sitting on a faded wooden chair, remained motionless, imive, serene and, in turn, watching the audience present. Heads held high, eyes wide open, teeth semi-clenched, breathing a little accelerated, a slight grimace on their faces and the expectation of the action to come. The public waited. Suddenly there was a great void, minds blank, emotions contracted, and there were no more movements. The hearts, yes, they continued beating; the bodies fulfilling their functions, the blood circulating, the fluids rotating in each living organ, the vital apparatus of the body faithfully fulfilling each pre-established mission. Suddenly the artist stood up and took a step forward. His shoe rumbled across the room. He brought the other foot closer, and his harlequin costume danced on his thin and frail frame. The eyelids opened even more, as if waiting for the next action, which took centuries to happen. Eyes fixed on the artist's face. Trembling. The artist made a gesture, like a subtle grimace, without taking his eyes off those present. Suddenly he began to smile. More and more. With a resounding and booming laughter. Everyone watched imively, and the artist continued to laugh louder, increasing the volume and strength. Laughing out loud, cracking his jaw, protruding his eyeballs, loosening his dental implants, drowning in his continuous hilarious spasms. The whole room was covered with his loud laughter, rumbling in the eardrums, piercing the gray brains and awakening every cell of their poor souls, altering

their sleepy doctrines. Suddenly the artist stopped. He took a step back and quickly sat down on the chair. Then the whole theater exploded into great clapping, clamoring, in a single rhythm, energetic and overwhelming. There were also ovations, shouts and encores that rose from the depths of their throats, originating a concert so loud that the spiders fled the place. Thus, the exaltations remained active, without exaggeration, for about five continuous minutes. Finally, the curtain fell, and the great room slowly emptied. Outside the sleet was falling very slowly, and a dog barked in the corner.

Order leads to all virtues. But what leads to order? Georg Christoph Lichtenberg

Program It doesn't matter what you think or believe, it doesn't matter your religion, your social status, your educational level. Because the program is already established. If a thousand vaccines, transplants, new medicines are invented; if there are reds, greens or blues. If politics is more or less harsh, social democracy, dictatorships or democracies. The human being will follow a slow path, but no less cyclical; and with only one sense... He will walk slowly over the preset program. Because the human mind has only been created to be born, grow, reproduce, work, and die. Not to understand existence in its entirety. Perhaps you believe that you can save the planet, change social structures, improve the quality of life in the world, eradicate hunger, injustices, inequalities, and thus achieve a happy world. It is useless, do not insist, the planet has a time, like your own life, like the sun itself, the moon, the entire solar system, and everything that each mind can create. Because program has determined this for millions of years before all this existed. And everything, absolutely everything that your eyes have seen, what your hands are touching, and what your mind thinks; everything will definitely disappear. , like any program it has an expiration date. Don’t forget it.

If you die in an elevator, be sure to push the up button. Sam Levenson

The Elevator I write these lines that I have written down on a piece of paper and thrown through the elevator in which I am traveling now. Although my story continues, my tale will be infinite, and my life I don't know what it is. I don't know if I am alive or dead, if this is purgatory, if I have reached hell or if I am dreaming... I really don't know. It all started when one day I tried to get on the elevator of the place where I live, located on 21 Magdalena Street of Madrid. I never used it, but this time I decided to, I climbed in the cage, the doors closed, and it began to climb. I would only go to the second floor; I still don't why. Suddenly the elevator stopped between the first and second floors. I thought the power was out, the technicians were working, or something else might have happened. I waited a few minutes and began to press the red bell that elevators usually have; no one answered. Suddenly someone spoke to me through a small speaker located under the red button. And responded that they would send the technicians to free the elevator, and to wait in peace. So, I was 7 minutes in, and I decided to call the fire department from my cellphone. And so, they also told me that they would come. It was cold and the air was too heavy. Nobody was coming. An hour ed, two, three. Suddenly the elevator started again, going up. Initially at normal speed, then faster, faster, much faster until reaching cruising speed. Scared, I sat on the ground holding onto the enger bars to feel more secure. And it went up, up, and up. In an instant I ed my childhood, playing cricket, golf, traveling in my father's car, vacations, English lessons, my first girlfriend. The elevator kept going up, I ed my adolescence, my marriage, my son, my divorce, my studies, my friends, my books and writings, my lectures as a professor, my talks, my dreams, my life, some illness, the heartbreaks, my relatives, my achievements, my travels. Everything, everything appeared like a technicolor movie screen. In an instant, I lost track of the speed of the cabin, but it accelerated a little more, as if it had a boost, and there I lay on the floor, very scared.

The metal and glass walls were made of a purplish plasma, the floor turned white like cloudy gases, and the ceiling dark blue like a gloomy night. There was no longer a door, it was all a great thing. And I felt like I was entering a new dimension. All the air was quickly perfumed, the cubicle was filled with gray butterflies that looked like bats, goblins and angels crossed, and even symphonic songs that I had never heard. Everything was great hazy, confused, noisy, colorful. Psychedelia and delirium. It stayed like that for a long time until everything calmed down. I began to see faces, beautiful faces, who were smiling and talking, but without a voice. And their silent voices were poems, the most beautiful poems. Finally, nothing was left. Everything was absolute silence, and the elevator continued traveling. Today I am here, traveling through time-space, without destination or end. While I try to write what I see, from time to time, in the momentary appearances.

It's not so much staying alive, it's staying human that's important. George Orwell

Dystopia I lived in a perfect world, it was a past in my memory, and I say -was- because that memory has already been erased from my mind. Sorry, I'm Nataniel, of Aramaic origin, seeker and globetrotter. I write this from the year 4765, from the era of the gravitational revolution. I clarify the latter because in the stages of humanity there have been many revolutions, such as industrial, computer age, social networks, the neo-democracies that ended, the latter, with all forms of dictatorships and neo-monarchies. But the gravitational revolution is characterized because the human being discovered the way to end gravity. For this reason, today humanity can walk if it wishes, it can fly or not, it can walk through the air or on the ground. Also, travel at high speed, and end the relativity of time-space. I also make it clear to you, dear reader, that this story that I am telling here I am not ing, because I already do not my past, but at the time I had manually transcribed it in my life log. At this time there is no memory, nor negative memory, our brain has been modified from DNA so that its functioning is more efficient. In this way, there are no dissidents or political parties, or differences of any political nature. Religion was also abolished, and no one believes in any god anymore, but we know that our species descends from an alien species, something that was revealed to us around the year 3000 when a species made itself known in public, and then left. This is a false ideal world, we are happy slaves, with washed ideas, false emotions, synthetic realities, invented dreams, and unforeseen deaths. At this time, I will be expelled into outer space, where I will die and travel through the cosmos until I disintegrate. I have been condemned because my memory, as you may know, has been lobotomized and I can recall what happened in this ‘ideal world’, because I have collected it before... Goodbye dear reader of any year and place, may your consciousness conclude on what is happening here.

There must have been a time when men were demigods, or they could not have invented chess. Alexander Alekhine

Demigod There was a being from other places, outside the Milky Way, from distant galaxies, let's say many light years away. Like any employee, he had to fulfill a mission, which would favor his promotion. Because we must agree that capitalism was not created exclusively by the human species, but spreads from universal genetics, from that divine particle that all beings in the universe contain. Therefore, if there is capitalism, there are salaried employees, even if they have four eyes, two noses, look like hideous monsters, or powers that be, they will all remain dependent. But here we go, it wasn't just any employee, no, it was a demigod. Let's say a being with developed faculties, such as flying, reading thoughts, jumping 100 meters, throwing rays and strange lights, as if they were those American superheroes. This demigod was very observant, and that was the reason why he was sent to the Milky Way, because in the universal context, the species that inhabit it they also discriminate and classify; and they assert that the Milky Way is like the Bronx of the universe, where no one wants to approach given its nefarious reputation. Empty planets, too hot or too frozen, brutalized species in totally wild contexts, pseudo-intelligent, conceited and arrogant beings, imperfect, malformed, aggressive and murderous species. And a species called human that, in galactic gatherings, brought sadness more than astonishment. Capable of murdering others of its own for money, ideas or for establishing a sexual relationship. Unable to love and conditioned by materialism in such a way that they invented marriage, some religions, and even certain totally surprising beliefs. This demigod had some armed robotic custody. And what I have previously related is just a fragment of a report found on this demigod's ship. Because when descending into an area, supposedly civilized, it was attacked by scantily clad humans, provided with rustic and archaic weaponry. And they were accompanied by others with modern and automated weapons. The demigod was overconfident and descended without the armed protection of his protective robots. He entered a town and only found corpses that had arrows piercing their bodies,

or were mortally wounded by wounds from swords, stones, and ax blows. He was not surprised because he was alerted to such circumstances. He moved toward the living quarters, and as it called for its robots to come down to guard it, it was thinking how brutal the dominant species on this planet was. It kept walking towards the city, and there were no movements, only dead humans, women, children, and men in gray armor. It entered a kind of library and there were manuscripts, books, papers with pictures, maps, comes, and a chess board with a game started. When it realized that these humans were intelligent, a sword pierced its heart, splitting it in two; then the robots came to its aid. The human warrior raised his sword and cut off the demigod's head.

Whoever gets into brambles and loves, will go in when he wants, but will not come out when he wants. Plutarch

Uxoricide They loved each other once. Or maybe they still did, but with some horrifying nuances and hues. He parked his van in front of their house, wrapped the .22 caliber of 6 shots in a cleaning cloth. She was at home with their three children. She ironed her, her husband's and her children's clothes. Then the man got out of the vehicle, took his wallet and put the revolver in the right pocket of his jacket. She was arranging the ironed clothes in the drawers of the cabinet, and while she was doing it she decided to make the cooked mate for the kids. He walked the long corridor from the entrance to the door of their house, -they were those chorizo houses where several families or people lived in the same residence-. He was nervous, his lover had given him an ultimatum regarding his relationship with his wife, and he had to decide between his beloved and his legitimate wife. She put the kettle on the stove and ed her husband's first kiss, the church wedding, and the birth of their children. Tears fell and ran down her cheeks. He kicked the door open and entered screaming loudly. He yelled bad words, insults, and irreproducible disqualifications. He burped up the wine he had drunk with another friend, which was keeping him slightly dizzy, and his senses sluggish. She did not shut her mouth and returned the insults. She immediately threw the iron at his head, berating him that she knew the affair he had with his lover. He drew the revolver and fired all 6 shots at her. One hit the shoulder. The second the cheek, the third hit her chest, the fourth grazed her shoulder, the fifth entered her womb, where there was a 3-month-old fetus, and the sixth lodged in her forehead. She collapsed looking at her husband and taking her belly she screamed: "You have killed our baby." She died shortly thereafter. The three children screamed in fear under a table. He ran out to the van, "I didn't know about the pregnancy". Regretful, he reloaded the revolver, rested the barrel on his temple and fired a shot. The next morning my mother heard her crying in the kitchen of Manuela Pedraza 2313, where she asked her to take care of her 3 children. My mother notified her cousin, and they were adopted. She never heard her again.

Revulsive

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Miguel D'Addario

European Community 2021