You've already seen this race of men who haggle language epidermal their ass on the boulevards, large manufacturers in the flesh, tirelessly exploring the secrets of their bodies to invest its treasures, which are no longer men, expected to bear the weight of an irreparable shame all his life, and you probably know these shady financial, operating in artificial paradises, which are surrounded by other beautiful young men overpowered, proudly splashing in turn, court of the miracles of capitalism, smash ignorant that playing God and whose money, building stone of Babel Tower is the ultimate instrument of their divine power, but you never know maybe I'm the one who has destroyed his soul so savagely that dropped in Roman Carthage, a man who has no worse enemy than himself, a perfectly useless ; masochist whose work has helped weave the rope that would hang one day, he completed the same feat of insulting his life in a way that nobody can equal, not even all of these miserable. Satan
you press to open the ball, I'm finally ready.
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