Solo hablo sin pensar, no pienso cuando hablo, que mas hago con este diablo, que no me deja avanzar que no me deja pensar que solo me hace sentir y es por eso que ya no quiero vivir sin embargo él mi sangre me tiene aquí mi sangre fluye en el y fluye en mi necesito vivir necesito sentir. 

“Listen to me,” said the Demon as he placed his hand upon my head. “The region of which I speak is a dreary region in Libya, by the borders of the river Zaire. And there is no quiet there, nor silence. “The waters of the river have a saffron and sickly hue; and they flow not onwards to the sea, but palpitate forever and forever beneath the red eye of the sun with a tumultuous and convulsive motion. For many miles on either side of the river’s oozy bed is a pale desert of gigantic water-lilies. They sigh one unto the other in that solitude, and stretch towards the heaven their long and ghastly necks, and nod to and fro their everlasting heads. And there is an indistinct murmur which cometh out from among them like the rushing of subterrene water. And they sigh one unto the other.

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