Now I know that my perceptions are a construction of my brain and my consciousness only be treated as if they belong to something out there ... So I walk So the totality of the eigenvalues my neural operations that appear to be real city museum and let me draw your attention through this seemingly real catalog in my alleged hand ... I realize now that has piled up here apparently something that an abnormal state, in its dimensionality, Imperia formality, sovereignty and power downright irritating and disturbing relationship with my neural activity looking for ... It says here I am, and you belong to me now ... And so it does not only increase but also further reduced, apparently with the sole aim of making myself small and destroy ... It refers to a galactic range beyond the art ... It evokes events that are beyond the comprehensible ... It revolves around the organization of distance and near ... It pulls the desperation to light ... Says the catalog ... And what I'm saying? ... It furnished the galaxy of silence.
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