When the man merely attaches itself thought darkens as the fog expands in a barren field and how it is perpetuated on a frozen river freezes the mind and the soul dies in his last agonizing and sick spasm a fake euphoria and moving as the very essence of a man who died while his gaze turns into a dark and white light. Why kill the man loves his happiness in a look ugly as the vision of the divine fog kills the feeling of redemption of a poor man and moved in front of the vision of a bare tree of his clothes as best natural or hide under the leaves the loam and charge of the death of the natural essence? It is not known, but the man who observes the fog obscures the essence behind dichotomous blood and emotional nature or how best the essence of nature affect human happiness permeating mortally like a flowing river gives off moisture in the air man em- anates sadness and death in its essence because the spirit goes out in a frozen lake as the mist sublimated in its metamorphosis then the man is blinded in ver- nal freshness of spirit nascent but surely dying just the shape of the human es- sence or as happiness exists could die behind the feeble flow of a fog incipient and then life is apocatastasis of itself, the perpetual cycle animal symbiont that dies and rises behind the shape of the human humoral. The sadness of the fog is the division bell that could sound the death toll could alarm or the old-fashioned sense of resurrection that a sad soul craves and compassionate, a posthumous fragment of a spring off as a bare tree before a redundant river ice. The feeling that one feels in the face of death is the same that is contemplated in front of the fog or even better as the darker side of the moon where the diamonds of heaven and hell lie where the man is recognized when it is immersed in his empty lake wicked essence but full of cold but the fog is all or soul and essence of man in cold game of life rolls into the abyss.

Is subtle play between essence and absence.

“Shine on you crazy diamond” that in your life you are the fusion of game and perversion as the cold contains immanently life and death so the fog makes fun of all that in its fumes is the game of absence and essence man bows down to your feet giving life to the mere conception of a fleeting life that it is not viz of living the man exhales in its emotional essence becoming permeate from not feeling happy not to coexist with himself but then we are all a game of smoke or a voluptuous curl of smoke alive and expanding in our essence dead.

Hic vivere aut non vivere?

Oblivion is the birthplace of the fog as forgetfulness is the place where man ex- ists and there is not the essence of that eternal calm where although the man denies its essence and carnal as it buys natural pith but in the dark theater of the human unconsciousness the bitter sea of our words pervades the atmosphere and it hurts when you see that the mere curtain of fog in the eye drops by those who love us and I still remember when as a child I was immersed in the limo with his feet and felt the mist enter me remembering the feeling the damp cold of my body so my heels feel yield. So maybe it will be as fell the Death?