A pedra do lobo

Nature is cruel. Life is cruel. A stupid race to escape death, a more stupid flight to death. A jungle of feelings. In the jungle there is no perspective, there are no straight lines, there are no perpendiculars or horizontality: only a mass of organs and exuberance. Cruel life The sound of death. The music of death. Nothing is true.

تُعرض النبذة بالإنجليزية لعدم توفر ترجمة بعد.