kill kill kill

kandido reflections on top of the hill: hoping for a quick end of the world so australia will became the paradise it was before and not a amusement park.

"why do bhudda say don't kill?
our life is mad(e) of death. we are living on a pile of skulls and bones.
we live thanks to the death of plants, animals and other people that worked for it.
(vegetarians that say that they dont want to kill makes me laugh. do they know how their vegebale are grown, and the pesticide being used? and the bird being killed? do they know that to make a field sometimes a whole forest or a bush has being destroyed, with all its inhabitant?)
we uses roads and train that people build dying, we use car that uses petrol still dirty of blood from wars,
we pollute: we kill
we take madicine: we kill
we kill all the time. and we comes and we live thanks to killing and dying.
so, why don't kill? just realize that you kill, and the best you can do is to be grateful to your victim.
this is life: born and die. kill or be killed.
no escape. this is life, this is nature...
nature doesn't have moral laws. life is just life.
when you save a butterfly form a spiderweb. maybe you kill the spider...
choosing is killing and not choosing is killing as well. so? nothing to do. just be aware.
if you don't want to kill, kill yourself and free the world from your presence (a good site full of hints how suicide: www.churchofeuthanasia.com )

we are better than animals because we lie (better) to ourselves. our biggest lie consists that we are better tha animals.

who cares?
when you realize the million of people and the million of lives make you what you are now. here.
oh fuck, maybe you are grateful. somebody die for you having a car, a road and your food. and you don't know. so the best you can do is to take care of this life that cost so many of others...
so enjoy. enjoy your daily killing!"

big horses

kandido is sited on the ridge of the ocean.
the sun is going down painting around with its yellow light.
the big ocean waves on the distance looks like wild horses with long luminescent hair in the wind. running crazily, jumping one on top of the other, restless.
in Italy they call these big waves "cavalloni" big horses. but here, in Australia, they are just small.
even the waves of the typhoon in Okinawa weren't bigger...
and then he recalled the image of the ocean from the airplane.
the ocean was looking like an unpolished stone. full of lines and ripples. the only thing that was breaking the surface was some path left by boats. they have a different luminosity. they can stay there for long time.
the ocean the waves are fixed from the airplane. stable like a stone. and the roads that boats draw on it stay as well... for days maybe they stay, but then they disappear...
his mind goes to Angkor Wat, or to Manchu Picchiu... the tracks that the men left on the earth don't survive for long, everything become again nature. just question of time.
just question of prospective. the amazing waves that break on the shore, and that seem so lively, always changing, from the airplane are fixed. no any visible movement. no strenght, no craziness.
everything in order and stable.
even his mind sometimes when he look at it too near... it seem like the waves of the ocean, crazy like wild horses, but form the distance... only peace. the ideas come and go in fixed and stable ways, like the ocean. stable in in movement, stable in it's apparent instability. dead like a stone in its apparent liveliness.
kandido looks at this huge beautiful land, transformed in an English garden. green, squared, shaped...
he tries to imagine how it was before, the forests, the bushes, and the lakes without the bench on the side...
everything look like a garden for the joy of Australian people. BBQ places everywhere, even with gas, walking path where every risk is erased, helicopter that check all the time the shore to protect the surfers... enjoy your amusement park!
a flock of black bird is flying in the sky. peacefully... kandido smiles. sooner or later everything will be like it was before.
people here love nature, at the same way you can love a horse: taming it.
people tend to forget that we are nature, we cannot fight against it, because we are it. everything we do is natural.
we still believe that god give the earth to the men to use it and enjoy it. instead we are a product of the nature. that continue its path... and the men is a step along its path...
men can only draw straight lines, because it knows only two point: the beginning and the end. he can think only like this.
god draws curve lines that don't begin nor end.
...
big waves, small waves, ripples, beaches, desert, dunes... waves? still waves?... or something different?
maybe just sea. it's all sea. inside outside. the sea that smells like sex. just sea. like life.