Riding home, into the rock cave where there things get softer by the defense of a balneal exposure to the arms into the rocks upon the skin but that doesn´t hurt because stones for the hermit, are their natural homeland and a glory for not to shed hope on the way civilization really hurts and puts things away from the natural actions when thought is in control as behavior works wrongly like an empty room without an atom. While the stone has life and that is a small step to understand the difference from matter and existence in all the angles that are in front of our body.
Life exists by the lifting on the knots who proclaim a relaxed start where the things about the hermit were told as they would be told to you dear reader and what is fair in the gist of every scientific approach into the world where the entourage of recreation shows by one side, the dazzling voices and for the other, the anguish population who by bad fortune of the non self mastering policies. These people are in serious starvation down in the same ground level where we all live by persuasion of the same existence which life can lift little by little if by the first time, we enter a vast radiant atmosphere, we can enjoy our senses with the energy. By pushing the desire of feelings without the murderous attempt of matter rewards for what is taken here by the cosmic calenture of silence and that means so much more than you and I both know. Maybe that´s the fun or the horror of it, we shall see with words and your touch in here, to see what is alive and by swinging in the sunny days and in the hotbed of repose, just like a kind of langour which takes the dog for a walk and we feel part of something. This part is so much more valid if by no fear of the closest unknown around the outside, we can meet new eyes and a face with rising possibilities of going deeper across the conscious of too much awareness.