C Jewelry ajita (NGC4755): Named an all-star in the constellation of the Southern Cross. It is a few hundred stars that have formed from a high concentration of molecular gas and dust present in the plane of our galaxy. It follows that all the stars that make up this stellar system, and that astrophysicists also called open cluster or galactic cluster, have almost the same age. Due to the different temperatures that each of its stars has on its surface, this cluster has a variety of colors and brightness which justifies its designation Jewelry Box.
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A ROCCO
I wanted to write and post the letter inside the Jewel Box.
But it happens that I write, because it has refused to reason my heart and feel my understanding. I must admit I rebel this inverse arbitrary strike the senses and reason.
are not even compliant fingers on his tour of the keys. These keys where colorful verses flourished, more or less happy as the recipient and cause, blacks today are steps to the basement forgotten where I keep the junk out of use-but not shot, in case of use "and I find there determined by involuntary impulse of the keys, the black, no lettering.
I'm not sure where to start looking for you. I understand that exploration is a waste. But for this class screening is not worth the churches and the cemetery.
not the pyramids, only some famous Egyptian pharaohs.
But you, of Egypt, nothing. And I, of Egypt, everything. Because I find where they rest, forgotten, your gods everyday.
now sitting, quiet and sensitive, sleepy and affordable for any ungrudgingly touch you in a hurry, the rush is not laughing, and is unjustly haste, while pushing me a scene. And for dinner, the task, making what and the meeting is that this union endorsement to beneficial predatory. So, I'm earning interest that do not interest me, should not, but it turns out not to owe, let me wastage debits and habits, because you are not, as they were, do not get stroked enough, do not take care you need. If I loved you, how sure you are not against the world?
Tonight I await your deities in the dark, although not believe that the thin light. There are gods who have practiced for centuries of resistance, and know, by action and reaction, that tomorrow will be bowling with them on the mountain. For when you return, so the legend, instead of minutes have been years in the middle. You know the time, his reputation for invention required for sorting duties and rights, is well known and clear that their presence has been tested. His absence, however, is obvious. Cruzate the planet below and see clearly. The death of the schedule is not so: never existed, except in the light of the shadows that gives us, compassionate, confiscatory tax boring pigeonhole everything.
If you are still here-and you are, because it hurts, stay and abjure the space is simple utility that operates the narcissism of matter (I should not say "still").
still - oh, yet! - You masquerade uncertain time, a product of collective sophistry, sustained and ancient that we deliver Constantine, along with the helmet and the cross.
If you are, demolish the scam also Hades.
prefer the gardens of Babylon, the madness of Pompeii, the Chamber of Plautus, honey and beer from Homer to have to lean on altars fraud occurred only because you go at noon and because I do not know what kind of triangle is honored by your arrival.
But I abolished the default time and become essential. Returned the initial effect, you have never gone.
Just wonder, then, your absence, because this kind of presence hurts. And you key new excuse, and dark and clouded with tears.
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