Final Cultural Hurricane Presentation
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In my world people are nice to each other. The habitats love to learn about each other. They love to rediscover their necessities in the necessities of others. They do not have to hide from each other. They are all one light with different focuses. Each focus of light is a flame, each flame has a different form, color and function. Each small light is a cultural item, a material crystallization of a satisfied human necessity. It is a satisfactory food, a satisfactory dress, a satisfactory dance, a satisfactory artwork, a comfortable house, a wonderful manifestation of the human soul, and vulnerability just with a subtly but shinning difference. It is a new mirror with different ornament but with a similar image reflection. It is the beauty of contemplating the human limitations and her/his occurrences to overcome them. The beauty of contemplating the most pure self: oneself, yourself, or her/himself, ourselves, yourselves, or themselves are all equal and beautifully diverse. The final spiritual goal is the contemplation of the unity on the white light, with its infinitive colorful manifestations, and its infinitive diversities. Like a new Indian goodness and an old one who express similar virtues. Like you and me trying to know each other in a world where the similarities are the common denominator, and the differences the wonderful free manifestation of the cultural goodness, the human expressions of Good Orderly Direction/s.
Blind at Cultural Hurricane.
I am feeling the grass under my naked feet. I can even smelt it. I walked slowly through the fresh smelt now mixed with eucalyptus now with rose. I should be near the small there is in front of the Agora structure. I push down my feet into the cold earth. I feel secure now and now the stone is colder and I go up until I feel the high because the wind. An old stone mix with a New York steak. The non-existence of the Agora roof let the smelts from food level flown around. I did not realize I was so hungry. I fly slowly following the steak smelt that know mix with the paella one. Kaboom, someone has placed the Indian right in from of the steak. I am falling down, I am sure he was not a Hare-Krishna follower.
It is a soft surface where I jump again elastically after I heard some stickes crash, native American sweat lodge was not made against falling people. I am not hungry anymore so I fly higher around the food level this time touching the tube and following its spiral support structure that go across the levels. I smell cuscus this time and after a while I do not anymore. I must be on the miscellaneous level. I can touch and feel the fabric structures even I can image the draws of the Turkish carpet. I will sit here for a while until I will feel better.