Brazilian Wax Ripped Skin

The necropolitics - XXV

XXV

Ephrem often dreamed. But it was not his dreams ... peaceful. Quite the contrary. Due to the profound suffering mental disorder, the reality was soon destroyed as a reference and raw materials for manufacturing subconscious dream. Yes, Efren was very mad, and his dreams came from the set of feelings he experienced in killing, which had created a strange fabric without law and order, a world where there was only one main character [11] , accompanied by large number of victims of various kinds. The night before the awakening of Ephrem, his dream was this:

"a new day dawning. I get up. I'm in a white room. I leave the room. I'm in the room. White furniture, white walls. I do not like. Knock on the door Knock, knock. I open the white door. I see a housing development milk white and said to be the milkman. A white guy with a bottle of white milk glass and white teeth. I have to pay. "Pa ... Garle?" No. I have to "hit". Kick in the gut. Gasp. I return to it. Punch in the mouth. Shout Help! No blood flows. That angers me. I take the bottle and placed on the face. Now it is bleeding. But not only the milkman. Everywhere. The white houses turn red. The walls are stained dark. It makes the night. The milkman falls at my feet. Dying. Look at the sky. The moon is very large. But ... damn. The bitch is white. Deep howl like a wolf. Delirious to hear milk. Much blood. Below him ... with my feet. Red and thick. Caliente ... I realize I'm naked. I lie on the puddle left by the milkman. I smeared. I look at the moon, and this time not see. Refining the vision. Yes it is, but is now a hole. A black hole. Attracts me. Attracts everything you see. Flying houses, cars fly. Palmeras, bicycles. No people. Only remnants of the battered distinguish between the noise dairy. I have no fear. But I'm going to die. I'm cold. I'm in and I am not dead. I am ... I am awake. "

_________________________________________ [11] El Salvador.