A T A R A X X I A

Ataraxxia intro

     I would like to accept that, at this point, I can only ask you to forgive me, because you decided to enter this universe of frenzied verses. If it is true that infinity forged universal fairies that were millions of stars dancing the cosmic waltz of a god that gave the impression that he was guided by the alignment of his planets to unite energies, create them ... or simply destroy them.

Forgive me, but asleep I have traveled to places forbidden to our souls, and there I stole from the gods a tremendous gift to be able to tell them all this abyss that so afflicts me ...

I would like ... I would like to accept that everything glimpsed along this journey is about journeys made with species lost in any space of the cosmos, things that I don't even understand how they were sculpted in my lines, I don't know if perhaps they were erected by dark beings .

I must ask you to forgive me for wielding such a confusing headline, but it is that I have perpetual ashy feelings that have hit my little head against the bloodiest cement, sometimes I don't even understand how such a young body can bear so much pain under the skin, I feel that the idea of ​​being so insignificant for the imaginable size of the universe is so harsh, but I can do nothing but do good ... that it is relative, because you will meet many characters, that you will want the trip to never end ...

Unmemorable stories in the Ataraxxia galaxy; circumstantial ancestral memories that thousands of words inherited to enlighten them.

And all this is the consequence that I deserve for wanting to write one of the most epic dark tales. I implore every living being that wanders through the withering gloom of the infinite photons that, by all the old and young gods... forgive me... sorry for expanding this universe when I add more confusing verses to the book and sometimes it becomes tiring to read so much regret, I understand you; but only when the soul undergoes so many convulsions do emotions paint the most beautiful texts. Sorry if I was late, but the fingers had to collect several damages for years to squeeze what burns in the heart. Sorry for so much contradiction. I apologize to the Kedabarienenses who preceded me and who did not rest in the investigation of the true reason for the existence of the soul, and then through magical methodologies and the astral consonance with the gods. We lived in another dead universe, billions of trillions of trillions of years ago ... as if the creation of the five heavens of the planet KeDabar were a complete parallel orb. At least, when the soul slept and traveled to other unknown destinations in Ataraxxia, they discovered that all the ordinary matter made by cosmic protons had vanished into a chaos that lay dying almost empty... empty like a broken heart... yeah... like my poor broken heart. An empty universe like the last kiss that turns out to be the coldest, no matter how hard they give it to you. Empty the dark cosmos where all the matter was constituted solely of subatomic particles... all the matter in black holes had become; however... one by one, the millions of black holes began to evaporate, and then all the matter instituted by protons had disappeared, like the love that leaves you alone and badly wounded... with a broken heart, yes, with the delusional broken heart and destroyed.

Empty cosmos where only dark matter, electrons and positrons roamed, empty where only quantum physics remained, because the universe where they had once lived had endured a thermal death, where infinite neon photons lay. I beg forgiveness because in my blood the profane art forbidden to Kedabarienenses has been engendered, and my heart is like the stone of the fallen god ... because abandonment has left the poor devastated and badly wounded ... poor my broken heart ... Has God allowed it? I still trust that His power simply cannot be woven by my discernment, because it is a tremendous immensity that understanding it would only undo my happiness more. But how could an ancestor universe have passed away? Millions of years passed, until there was a moment in the void, in which the luminescence of the consciousness of the stars revolved many times, becoming black dwarfs. The galaxies of the local group with the expansion of space and time, vanished from the observable universe ..., until they were projected to a sidereal path where several of the galaxies of the Nebula Happened Peripetia, had been unified in a simple one.

I'm also sorry for having left ash on my lips with each kiss, that's why I know that where all the bones of the darkest monsters lie, the most egregious rhymes bloom in the cherry blossoms. And when I sleep in that damn room, I realize that there was a moment when stars stopped forming in what was a unified galaxy. Pardon the stars that degenerated their combustion and passionately passed the path to death from which not even they escape. I beg your pardon then to the spirits of the stars, in case I make the gods cry with such tyrannical ciphers, I confess that I have resisted too many pagan curses ... some sorcerers envious of my power have conjured up and the plain of the withered swamp is on fire..., but If I inherited the art of my tenebrous father, what it to wield the most eloquent and insane writings that will eventually be considered eminent literatures, when finally so much madness in texts is understood by future cultures. And I've been here since I was a child wandering between poetry and fantasies; I just want to patiently reach the farthest space in space, where the summer wind blows; And it is that at the top God accompanies me in each rhyme, since it embellishes the abstract art of my sentences, made me be a fucking revolutionary and demanded me to create more words in the dictionary when I was drowning in the darkest ordeal of my brain. Well, if I remember correctly, I think that on more than one occasion I even created letters to this alphabet... But I do not regret it, now I want to be a lavish expert who aspires to wield the most paragraphs sad profane.

Here is the complete overview of all the effort that has broken me to the bone. I have cemented with ink a mystical fable, written by ferocious fairy beings from parallel and reverse universes, so fantastic that my sanity petrifies just thinking about it, maybe even our brain isn't capable of conceiving it... even capable of imagining it. And is that creating and imagining paper worlds is a mysterious that, there is no gold that buys the art that gives off the soul and it glorifies it, because the path up to here has been a belligerence that implies finding in the stardust the fantasy dancing with the sadistic lyric that dwells in the heart... I admit that you need a lot of concentration to clarify with the heart what each of my words scream.

The Son of the Dragon and his neophyte were here ascending the crypt.