Tower of Babel, I'm sorry, those who can read will understand

The impartiality of my publications, all the singularity with which I write, real and fiction, the enigmas, the paradoxes, the parallels of illusions, the empirical observations, a utopia of indecipherable emotion.

As for verbal and grammatical errors, I worry about their relevance, some because I don't know how to write, in others the literal meaning of the language becomes a distortion of certain narratives, going off course and direction.

Sometimes the right things become useless outside of the context of purpose.

 Everything has a time to happen, to be pondered empirically, to wait for the right moment to land somewhere safe, charting the best course and not getting lost in labyrinths and direction.

 The stranger has his own peculiarities, he is patience within his limits and his dreams, they are the narrative of the perspectives that are created, they are steps that we build, solid, volatile, that go up, down or break.

 Nothing will replace the imperfection of the human mind, the biological being has defects with special effects, the perfect is artificial, without emotions or humanity.

 We create characters, chapters and dimensions, chronologies and conclusions, meaning and its results, many or nothing in common, "creator and creature", or we are thrown away or burned at the stake.