I dreamed of being a bee and repose of the most colorful flowers, I dreamed of flying.
I dreamed of being appreciated and admired, to be feared and respected.
In the dream I was flying humming, while I saw the world go by beneath me.
captain in a service station for cars and posavo me on the edge of a window half open, so that when the car started, I was already facing the wind to savor the spectacle of speed.
I held the wings closed to avoid compromising the aerodynamics of the car and I felt the strong wind that stirred the hair on the back.
I enjoyed so much to risk losing his balance and with its feet firmly, like a surfer of the window, I stayed perched on the edge of that glass and I liked it a lot.
When the car stopped I flew away happy.
was wonderful to be a bee, had adventures, doing business with the story the pollen with honey and trafficking of the drones. I had a respectable social position.
But sleep is over and the dream ends with sleep, I woke up. I'm back
cockroach, I suck the other and a bit 'to myself.
The means of production of honey, pollen mass distribution and exploitation of drones continue to be captured by the bees that are organized. We are cockroaches
social disintegration, first and morally.
If I went into a service station car I could put myself under the wheels of the first part of that.
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