Wonthelimar brought Spinalonga up to the regency of Kalydon, with whom Theus was waiting for him, it was easy to spot Wonthelimar when he emerged, crossing from Lasithi near the town of Psicro. In the Dikti mountains, constituting the cordilleran fringe, he had to cross extended by the east of the island of Crete in the peripheral unit, and by the west by the peripheral unit of Heraklion. They continued on through the broken inner cavern outlets of Wonthelimar, and his entourage until they were on the west straight and across the surface that would join Plaka and Kalydon. The tornadoes were felt as they collided in the thousand isobars, here voices of an infant who was protected by some ibexes on Mount Dicte could be heard, the goddess Rea could be seen as she looked at them calmly when she had her son in Amalthea's nursery, near another complex on Mount Ida, at elevation 1500. They headed by land through Heraklion, before definitively setting off along the dictates of the Dicte, crossing the low peaks of Ida, being able to notice that Infante Zeus had already cracked one of the antlers of some Amalthea ibex, crashing into the Cornucopia with its rays. Further away, towards the mid-***** of the Ida, quarzian lightning bolts are seen that were deployed with explosive devices, with apparent paradoxes that were looming anthropomorphic linked to the logic of self-contradiction. Wonthelimar notices and was warned by Vlad who pointed out with his hand that he was a special being who knew how to disguise himself with the magins of lightning, leaving only his premise hidden in the corner of innocence, for those who do not warn multinational or being from the mountains that he would go out alone to walk away from his lair blessed by the ferocity of the fulminations. Being only appearances until the esoteric image of a sleepy being that walked sleepwalking materialized, with books that burned around him, reading all the languages ​​of the world when uttering them. Without a doubt it was Epimenides, managing to be distinguished by the Kyrios, who were the wise masters!

Here he announced the way to spot and distinguish himself with the Kyrios, who denied him when he was hiding behind the rays, but it was undoubtedly because it was stipulated that he lived in the cavern of the Ida and the Dicte, when he had to go with sandboxes. towards lower Crete, where he sometimes had to descend, only if authorized by Zeus. The Kyrios distinguished him because Paul of Tarsus had mentioned to them about his abilities and behaviors of some Cretans. Wonthelimar ran up to him defying some lightning that protected him, and hugged him, he resisted but Epimenides finally told him some phrases of his epistles in his immediate ears of Ibex, making it clear that the false statements ended up sunk in the Aegean by ingesting lightning that they took all the fictions towards the deep sea, where all logic does not knowingly false. The plot would become an essay on the democracy of knowing and witnessing, with the logic that got out of phase with politics with this stratagem, which converged on the true appearance of politics without democracy, as good of satisfaction of the humanity that emerged in the *****. of this same. This the succulent Athenian affirmation was based on Aristotle and Plato, this interweaving will lie in the administration of Spinalonga when it was ceased from the regency of the Ottomans and the religious orthodox who lived there, only leaving the Manes Apsidas with the open cells of Eden of darkness, pointing at influential reflections. Wonthelimar asserted that the Pergamon frieze was in contention with the democracy of Pericles, to rebuild an Athens overwhelmed by the Persians. From this boundary and political device arises the analogy or parody of a sunken homeland, to re-emerge as a globalized metropolis, as a social phenomenon that had to administer what its fellow man should do ethically if not made by the ghostly waste of abandonment; in this case, the Manes Apsidas incubated. Thus, for centuries and centuries, the good was represented more distant from the autarkic bureaucratic center, creating the distant spaces until the jurisdiction of Syracuse, Megara, and finally, the most emblematic one that is Spinalonga, characterized by prototypical oligarchic and democratic regimes, crowded with military ordinances that are divided into a total imperative and individualized democratic need of progeniture, on a dark and abandoned military island, inhabited by a grotesque theater of tragedy, then at the expense of a fortuitous anti-democratic ***** colony in the labor of the Manes Apsidas, who remained as the only promoters of a microcontinent to liberate.

Vernarth calls Theus, Etréstles calls Vikentios, liberation is near! Dyonisius has to leave for Spinalonga with Wonthelimar and his entourage. Particles of liberation were divided with the immortality proposals of Wonthelimar and Marielle Quentinnais, transmitting ribs of the Speleothemes that harassed them extraterrestrially, until they became theologized in Theus, Vikentios's brother, committing himself to Elefthería or Freedom of praxis, before the gold, in their own alienating chance, are distinguished in the centers of knowledge of Spinalonga, as an entity of the five crosses of Theus, for the conceptualization of this human islet as a sentimental skin of the plague in Vernarth's parapsychology, through Wonthelimar for experience the intersection of Theusiles in honor of Theus with his comrade Vikentios for a priori and a posteriori, with events that will take place in this leprosarium. Kalydon bears a strong similarity to Kalidona in Messolonghi's Koumeterium. Being multi-assigned to Elounda northeast of Crete, like northeast Gethsemane, or the affliction ***** of the right lobe of Golgotha. Volume VII, is the compendium of Wonthelimar twice VV, with its double iteration, that is, VII, this acronym would facilitate access to the area of the future Leprosarium, a posteriori near said peninsula, and ditched from the continent that knew how to distance it as its adopted daughter Spinalonga "Long Splinter" who was now divorcing the peninsula. The fortification of the Venetian raids before the attacks of pirates.

Wonthelimar is seen in the mirror of the Chauvet lagoon, and before the prefixed arch of the Manes Apsidas, when they took the island in advance before they entered this artificial island flood of luminescence in 1578 by the Venetians who presumably feared the meddling by the Apsidas to seize the island, then leaving Crete plunged into a hostile coastline elevated in the foundational cavity of the Essene crewed vessels, they fit into the ship's bow that will be placed on the opposite side of the peninsula, thus avoiding that the ships would list by the low bottom that fluctuated between both portions of earth separated prematurely. The Greek impregnability did not bow before the otomanians by hiding, like Markos Botsaris in Messolonghi with themselves thus subduing them, considering more than sixteen hundred years of the chronological gap that separated this grievance that transcended under the ramparts, putting the settlement of the Tome VII, that is, from the acronym of Wonthelimar and its parapsychological union, which finally came to the aid of the Christians who fled from the Otomanians when they were empowered from the island, with the revolt of 1866, here the rebellious Christians pressed for the Turks to leave the site of a siege in 1903. Specifically from Lerapreta, the Kyrios of Vernarth appeared opening paths from Lasithi, the purpose of this a posteriori parapsychology of Vernarth, would bilocate with their expedition masters, preparing to welcome their ***** relatives on the island from the migration of the ottoman us. Forever as a ***** limen, to be bilocated in the Profitis Ilias, after burying all the lepers commemorating them of restored morbidity after forty days, just as it was in Jericho with the Mashiach, and the Apsidas Manes escaping from the Mashiach.

The eschatology of liberation is confessed with the mythological and parapsychological transformation of Spinalonga as attempts at the misery that evaded the wretched custodians of the Christians who organized themselves from the apocryphal prefixal German or acronym of Wonthelimar as Wo "where, and Thelimar, from the Greek Tou Limar, which would mean "decompose." Finally pointing out the hybrid imprint of the appellation granted by the Manes Apsidas who had stayed on the reef since it was abandoned by a priest. This Tou Limen was an appellation that was provided to weaken them from all the deprivation of Faith in the Christians on this island. The schematic parallel stretched between the two stages with the smallest concatenation since the first century AD. C., until 1600, making this quantum leap the Christian science that understood the democratic causality of extemporaneous events, without having any dimension or category of thought for those who differ or not, especially when the bodies and souls of Christians are They pirated everything, and of themselves, generating condemning existential stress as a source of static synergy, and of God-Mundis in the sketch of science that leads religious man to unite with existential cavemen, in the utilitarian health passages in Jerusalem, specifically in *** Bei Himnon, as a bilocation base in Spinalonga on the face of the leprosarium that was created as the first holocaust or body dump in 1900 without the ápsychos (without a soul), asking for compassion towards the praetorian militiamen masses of the remote past.

The dilemma is create-destroy since Wonthelimar had been moving rapidly through the intraterrestrial slabs near the Kalydon peninsula, before reaching the Kyrios entrusted by Vernarth in Lerapetra, Lasithi. Here they would join with Theus and Vikentios, two Orthodox Christians who were waiting for this procession to later return to Kalydon. The coordinates were alienated in the dilemmas of an anxious Anthropokairós or psychic fear of a past that was three-dimensionally present, towards a future between two different temporal quanta. The entourage was united with a great will to move great tons of time that were intertwined with the almost extinct nature, but noble in resisting that so many fools fought in lands that will never belong to anyone, especially when the storm of the apocalypse thunders the primeval. that Atlas sustains so as not to sink us with his pole, and save all unconverted humanity, making servitudes towards the land of putrid leaf and not the other way around, after so many failed attempts of a Hyletica, or usurpations of matters that are alien to him. certain improper uses such as the mantle of the precious ozone of Eden. The enthronement of the creator will be on the created and will be present, and yes it will be! De Spinalonga with his holocaust of matter will magnetize the mutuality of perished matter in the paw of evils that could not understand his soul matter.

Theus enthroned in Kalydon, here he waited for Wonthelimar before crossing to the islet. His brother Vikéntiko was objectifying himself with his spur scientist in the opening of a new rebirth, in this navel that will seek to untie the aphonia that was difficult with the smallest ellipsis that it implies, by intimidating the miserable prospect that nothing will be redeemable, even later to raise the standards of truly real and not virtual freedom, when the Vexillum that Wonthelimar brought to institute the Genius Loci of Spinalonga appeared. He came along with Marielle, Dyonisius, and Vlad Strigoi. The ethical debate from now on will focus on how to exalt the lepers and *** Bei Himnon and Spinalonga after the Manes Apsidas disassociated themselves from the ethical debate on the island after the departure of the Otomaniacs. The critical evolution will be for the hopeless of a definitive residence that conceptualizes the abandoned, and totally destitute of the chamber or convalescence session, taking them to the Mysterium Ecclesiae, carrying in themselves doctrinals that have supremacy and predominance of the relief of the drama of an existence gray and dark, of those who lie under dire diseases, with advanced duels and an exempt dogmatic formula.

The astrophysics of Spinalonga shows here a universe that distances itself from inextricable nothing, and nothing that alludes to navigating or discovering the point of a ba-ab point, with astrophysical interlocutors that emanate from the realities of stories, which occur more prone to whom be able to resist morbidity with total Christian doctrine, although still asserting itself in coming cycles where Christians are observed fleeing the formulations of a great theologian astrophysicist named Mashiach, who will unite them with the lipoid of Orion, or with the two quantum bracers of *** Bei Himnom and Spinalonga. The quantum record can be cited with immaterial alchemy that emerges from a retrograde biological evolution, for those who believe in archaeology as a state and complement of the logic of the omnipresent-bilocated God in Vernarth parapsychologies, going back to times that passed, passed and they will pass in any dimension of the common man, and whoever is added in the impersonal value in a dynasty of Christian thought, which accommodates the Lodging Ghost of Theus, together with the Mashiach, for a holistic with new body prototypes and souls, which would redesign a paradise definitive. The gaps will give guessed…! And the whole will be to create supposed voids under the law of the conjectured whole, here the continents will pilgrim, containing the same Rabbi co-responsible for all dualism that is ingratiated with divine omnipotence.

Low are freedoms as a final cause, an efficient cause that brings together greater merits of acquiring the personal vote, by acquiring inimitable tenors throughout the cosmos and archetype of man, which does not end with its used prototype substance, relating as one created after the creator told him that he would never abandon him, perhaps being Theus? Spinalonga, a city of the leprosarium, was distinguished from the apprehensions of the Anthropokairos and from the privations of the Apsidas Manes, without pain or fears that will redouble the rudders that unite it to this geomantic duplicity, uncreating mutations that would not appear in the limited collective imagination, rather in the existence that everything is at once, especially when the verb recovers the creative act, towards divine infinity, in Vernarth's kenosis or empty will, purging all of humanity ... It will be more meat on Patmos.

Kaitelka was in the Equinoctial Aftó of Áullos Kósmos IV after geomancy was oriented as a star Argonaut bathing in the Aegean while waiting for the ******* of various sectors of Áullos Kósmos. Between both Aulos and Citara, she was modeled with the aulética-citarística, glimpses of her Psychic Trisomy. In effect of the existence of an extra chromosome in a diploid organism 158, for a quantity of chromosome fifty-four, instead of a homologous pair of chromosomes. From this position she was limiting herself with her chromosomes of normality in the genetic proximal, upon entering the Bay of Skalá, which was waiting for her native again, where the art of navigation flourished in the nitrogenous water that brought her from Skalá; from Eleios-Pronnoi, about 39 km south of the main city on the island of Argostoli, in southern Kefalonia, on one of the Ionian islands of Greece. From here, she mimetic, she turned towards the art of the unknown sea next to Wonthelimar who endorsed her with his favorite, collapsing and disoriented by their anti-gregarious territorial similarity, and maritime per se the Otolith that brandished him in dual places of Ionian-Dodecanese geography, following the semiotic songs of Leiak that emerged from the aulética to infer Balénid genres, which acted precisely between the island and the bay of Patmos with the same name as Skalá, to meet everyone and be a participant in the construction of the sanctuary.
Kaitelka's Vernarthian tenor carried her behind her with another Ballenid, this one again carried the Demiurge Ezpatkul, with his prominent Augrum or Gold incisors that turned on the backs of all the borer beetles, being Scarabaeidaes that were delimited towards logic, and paraphrase of a qualitative satirical, especially in the modality of the subgenre, and sub-mythology of Vernarth. To commend all the hypotheses of this whale that sang with the native cephalization ultrasound, where it continued to arrange means between the middle and in its cranial cavity to the percentage of the world map, with the muzzles of its larger fins transmitting waves of parapsychological regression towards Vernarth, and parodying the transparent cendal ballads that he did with his passage through the water, despite not having members that strengthen the controversial cetacean passerby by waters of a melodious rhetorical language, such as a great inspirational helix, and satires that house greenhouses in most of the jubilation, akin to rudders that I furrowed in his verbal poetry, easing restrictions, and possessing the genome that was deprived of his gestation, of the maternal expropriation, victimized with fears of omega, and of Apocalypse hungover by sea and water candy. They piloted their heart valves, mere and Dantesque with the Zeusian buttress spauto, muddled and bundled in their bombastic myocardium like omitted ships without ever lifting anchor and setting sail, a very brief tulle of water satirized aggregates of their formula, and a piece of stony wood on their spur he braced himself like a mammal, he was carrying his weight in a literary category where there is no way to test it. Without hindrance, she was hilarious next to the breakers in the manner of a belligerent tendril with thick keel skins, dramatizing him, and perhaps that would delay her in reaching the investiture of Vernarth's Proskynesis Himation, some looked out jocular and foreshadowed to meet with her. Her chains were Caucasus icebergs, demystifying seasonality by residing linked to a single destination of Balénido Down, ******* with her dorsal that exhaled rearrangements of the Cinnabar genome, clarifying hormones and stereotyped balenid chromosomes.

The concordance of the Satirical subgenre, and the inanimate polarized gender correspondence to Kaitelka, usurping the intentionality of the sub-mythological drama, in two Radas of Skalá that appeared to lose the standard of their ears, with tragic representativity versus comedian staging, heralding an interlude between two areas that struggled to have it directed towards three comedies that pounced on three tragedies, missionizing crossed features of the ideals of survival, with parables preceded by the soul-linguistic being, due to its canonical supernatural modality when it was mimicked with disciplined domains after of a rhetorical poetics, rectified in religions granting orphic messianic structuralism bis of the equinoctial aft; foreshadowing the hymns of Orpheus in the Bible, and metaphorical in revealing divine truth, accessible only to spirits worthy of it. The purpose of metaphor in her poetry has the deciding function of the ineffable of thought, through simile, or in comparison to imagining. The song is one poetry, and the song such a praying too, prayer and ritual forming an inseparable syntagma of meaning in her escaping from Arbela's zither, impossible to differentiate in the biblical psalms themselves. The penultimate of them recalled number 149, being a hymn destined to accompany the dance; Orpheus says: "make melodies for him, with drums and lyres." It is known that the classical instrument of Orpheus reaches the level of the sacred in biblical texts. Psalm 150 contains an orgiastic ending to a symphony, in the description of the instruments that accompany the word and the voice that praises God, with sermons from Kaitelka blooming from an oceanic being and printing songs of the subgenre, without blemish of sub- mythology and the unconfessed proceeding. The comical exaltation of him recreates aspects of great joy, for whom in his Orphic water, he feels vibrations under his belly portraying cathartic and semiotic of his own trisomic root, in an effort to decode drama, for intermezzos of the mythological subgenre. Borker with his sword Mythos interpreted the story of Kaitelka when he tells her about the melting of Horcondising, seeing in them friendly glaciers that included her within provincial storytelling that sensitizes the culture being reborn on its spheres and plasma hematocrits, for an apologist who admits acting corporality and inanimate. Its genesis is Bereshit, "which names and does not start", from the undervalued parashot of the gods and kings, ordering them from the ibidem to inter dogmatism, in which it contributes in its credit reserve, in large consortiums besieging colonies by the southern seas of the Nótos of Borker. "Evil tears their veins heal their goods relegates the forgetful in the tradition of their existence alongside the demiurges, incontinent to their ills who enjoy making creation sleep, soothing it in innocuous myths that are often more than a supernatural truth!

Helios went out to the road by the west and not by the east, in the nascent instant of the ectoplasm that revealed micro satires that led to the station of the hero who lives hidden, behind the proscenium of a cultural and religious intimacy, Kaitelka plunges a few meters below the Aegean where he was already arriving, and he can realize that he did not see marine species around him, only beams of lights that distorted the view of those who flatter him on a descent? Underwater a mythical mission wailed on dry surfaces, and in the phenomena of the underwater stones, they relaxed before any reflection of the veracity of a myth of expression in the mouth of a fish other than Theseus, brushing systematic hermeticisms with the gloomy and infinitesimal. All this dialectical journey towards inevitably alternating molecules of his finite genome, to reestablish in his hybrid status when arriving at Skalá, here he would have to use his two neurochemical brains for a mortal instinct that does not die inside the mouth of a whale, but in the interrogation after being swallowed…? based on the extension of the sexagesimal nanoscale of Leiak, equipped with a fractional comparing that collects mythologies within them, for the uncertain truth. Kaitelka's only etiological myth burden is a consequence of her suffering, which is offered in her psychic trisomy, for being bastardized by three chromosomes, disorderly the reality of her specimen that unfolds her as a congenital disease.

Kaitelka says: Who am I and where do I come from? I am reaching the floodgates of my lord Vernarth, and I can see that I am reborn in his astragalus and vines, which tell a story ****** under the tripod and vapors of Herófila. Authoritarian truth that will bow before a pig to become, smelling here in the tragic essence, and in truths that are hidden in its symbolic denial?
Kaitelka is instituted a few miles before she begins to navigate in a zigzag, trying to condense forces for the origin of her ethereal, with sarcasm techniques that self promote her to blink in deluded tears and moan in the scenarios of uncertainty, in the opinion of pouring real myths, transposing its flow in the destination that is flooded in imprecise gestures and between cries with super sounds that raised it on the swells, and these, in turn, were shedding the mystery Masken by raising water concentrated in onerous poly morphology. With joys and hilarious meltdowns on the mountains, she approached everything when she arrived at the pleasant Skalá, escaping from cosmogony that linked her weightlessly on the light water, overflowing towards the very origin of a Vernarthian deity, in pasts and futures that do not intersect in the radial of its origins. The sky proclaimed laughter and mimic gestures that adhered to the vitrifying phenomenon of past-present pashkien images, ready to lightning that heals the invalidations of walking on troubled waters, a dipsomaniac leitmotif in early Christian justice.
                                            
Kaitelka sins irascible, violent and proud, urgent and judicious, but conciliatory despite carrying a cross and a harpoon on her back. She will continue to be Kaitelka Down, but Patmos will arrogate her Thracian gift of her of Orphic origin to her, for purposes of her radial preeminence in the Ballenids that hoist all the sacred sites. The biological diagnostic prescribes an univitelino twin whale, but when she goes beyond the hirsute destiny of her Iliad, she begs to go transforming into the rainy sphinx on the thick bronze ceiling as she breaks in the minting of the coins, towards a stop of seduction that enthrones in the gloom of the minotaur, and in the numinous hands of a daffodil on the face of the Epsilon. Or crawling in the mitral and in her valvulopathy with messengers, carriages, and with swans or pigeon birds; perching on a wreath of roses and myrtles that surround her red bozos. Almost always appearing undressed next to her escort, usually multiplied in excess towards her, with the amazement of her animal consorts that dolphins are, and Thracian pigeons, a priori being covered by the Pythia of Delphi that is migrating in the murky triumphs of the Achaemenides in Gaugamela.

Marielle indicates: “Your luminosity, Copernicus vibrating in Giordano Bruno, expresses hypotheses that they revive to Quentinnais from the third hour, from here now I am hospitalized and without light to line the end where I will put my feet evasive. Raymond Bragasse is here where I met him, and I saw him with his holy rosary on his necklace, and on Andrés Panguiette's claw. That you grumble, they excommunicate my sentences, which are that of the rooster that becomes gentle in a Corso, Sardinian or Roman Praetorian, in the leap I relegate to San Gabriel, with its magical art that excites the retentiveness of Saint George. Under what science do they moderate me by joining you, or what century will intuit us with its own splendor, whose obscurantism under his revolution mutes anyone in the darkness of the cave of Dionysius. The divinity postpones itself, to leave its daily chores where souls fly daily ..., they do not stop leaving with their spoils after the fairies that fly to purgatory. But many have passed over me, and I was wondering where to find you, I never thought that I should fly over a swarm of wasps to reach your divine lair, full of regulatory darkness for those who live against the light, and of an Elizabethan garment that dismisses my ring, where Its natural original magic is isolated from our semi-alive body, with brittle Egyptian suns that redoubled where I had to wait for you at the Pentecost bench. What retarding essence dries up who does not show any vital or symbolic avital sign, where the rough cyclicality does not allow me to chastise my hair in any vanity for you. Oh that Moral spellings referring to my commendation, if it is not apostasy! What else would I dare to speak, through the sky flying away from the lunar books of Vivencia, where it is sent from its orbit towards the cosmos free of all and of all with Wonthelimar free of me, confined of Marielle. I know that I am analogous **** of the Libri Dei Viventi, perhaps sackcloths or coats have to be spun in Parnassus, to gird myself to myself, and not Marielle cloistered in her solitude, who does not receive the Vivendi torpor of her paradisiac sacrilege when seducing a supposed daughter of Hecate, fortunately, I have to guess with a swarm, and stay in the nets of your cave. With the stanza that is invested in rhetorical values, I go crazy for love to which I am conjured, but from Marielle now or in hundreds of years that pester on my sackcloth, which will never be used for the liturgy with you, if I revive in the crisis of resurrection in the arms of Saint George in the stained glass window in Avignon, and in his forearm that passes through the worst emotional crypts of my author.

As I have to contest hostile votes that are netted in the puritanism of those who only wear sackcloth in the unstitched Mausoleums of Quentinnais, and in the strident leaves that move elected in his advent, where the subclavian of Luzbel stands. Unanimous I have to dare by asininity ...! Moderating threads of horror and silver light, which revives us in the beasts and in their perches, ad libitum in the lattices where it emerges from the conspiracy of our tragedy. Oh, what an impetuous incarnation of the anti-Christian verb has to express itself in your incarnations of light and restless shadow, in the apse of the discanted in Avignon, and in the acroteria shadow, suffering from cowardice by not wanting to see me angelic, universal predisposition, just to know fit and what to say with your soul lineage and twin life, who only knows how to love you. Our reincarnations are rescued, now that we go to Patmos intimidated, in the sound of shining the veiled Vernarth, reprimanded in his acquiescent morality under his own law and his glasses, born from his rib that ends in the exception of a foul dialogue. It is premature for me to say what I do not have to write, but the particles slowly fall through the beam of their adjective essences, reshaping exterminated historiographies that want to make green, in colloquia that draw the eyes of whoever wants to blind the profane cult, absorbed in sallow particles in four sciences and elements… What unresolved probe and mass can strike your heart poured into you Wonthelimar? You know when we get to Profitis I will go holding your hand in the morning, to adore you and kneel down, we will deal with why we lost ourselves, and why the sun has not stained me with so much fury, carrying me burned in tongues of its consumptive and guttural infinity. After taking the hand of dawn, I will sue the impossible quagmire and its Áullos Kósmos, weakened by theoretical openness, lacking unity, but not far from my vanistory, nor from the sessile fluff of my hair, waiting for you with your stormy return to hold me. Ayia Lavra will declare war on the eighth cemetery of Messolonghi, with solidity and sanctity that frees my chains in a single trident, paling in the rust of it, methodological treatise, and where the determination of veracity is annihilated.

Because I have to go to heaven when I want to offer myself to you, without any century that has received me with fewer wounds than those I had yesterday in its indolent septicemia, with miracles and incense burners that burn in imprecate, and provide a pagan theology of human filth. , not portraying biblical when your plurality dressed as a secular thirteenth, by referrals or Greco-Gallic that arise from the love that has no end or beginning in the autonomy of an incorruptible being, and even less when you wear sweets in its lavender lex. Genius Loci, or amplified reality, rather your idea of sticking with me when I have not been, and of attracting me when the future in the portal is made in the perfect symmetry of him, or whoever looms excited in his cabal. The body is no longer inscrutable, overworking with poetry to constrict my torn voice, running at great speed to seize the cosmetic that paints our faces, Selene and her luster aggravate punctuality and the status of science in creation. I have read volume VIII, and I saw that tears flowed by where I never thought ... !, for exchanges that marginalize an established authority, nor with more childish will I undone the garments of his self-description. Mime or jester in front of me in my catalog of the tragic actress with the anemic volume of her, pointing out uprisings in new waves, on seas that did not have them ..., loaded in new skeptical allegorical clouds, on truths that were already understood in the jealous name. It is incumbent on us to navigate with lamps that have to guide us through dark Ptolemaic hexahedra or henbane crusts, which do not manage to go over the sentry boxes of a divine gesture. How to dare to a final gesture of inflaming with you in factions and premises beyond an apocalypse, or of a Penelope that is gestated in a god, or becomes unknowable of a prevailing divine plan.

Charged with our dissidence, we will go far from the unknown burdens, that scripts are annexed in the new birth of our fiefdom and in their great expectation. Now four elytra have been born on my back, who hope to reveal to you the categories of the deleterious vanquished, reduced to only two Ptolemic emetics ..., you and I in a final judgment, which we already know well about, about the seventh eras that await us in the Southern Sporades, and in his final judgment in the eighth. O Jerusalem, I deprive my oldest sin by conceiving, but rather by confessing it with you. What insurgent dualism will make me get rid of myself and be reborn indestructible in its dizzying relish where the multi-chained temptation of redemption runs towards you? Wonthelimar…, I'm here, in this thunder slip writing for you. I have distanced my head united to yours so that it is not destroyed, for all thoughts, where although you are my diluted kingdom, I will beg You to leave me in the growing vertical anticipated flight from my body, but later in my consciousness which is what which will pre-exist with his Roman staff intertwining with his lusters, and in the syntagmas of Vernarth, which come from the Sporades of Patmos. As I honor and glorify Him in the southern part of him, my dear sackcloth has warmed away from my myopic eyes, already feeling your face breath on me, I will be able to vindicate narrated stories after we part before God!

Marielle vindicated my deprecations on the unavoidable stretches of Avignon, on Pentecost, we sat down writing each one in her hands, with your name and mine ..., we thought disfigured, we thought of the incorruptible doctrine of love, devout sense, and avenue that silences of the tremulous face in the arias of a Trastevere,
It took us further than an incautious thistle imprisoned in my memory ..., you hunted the mystique that spreads its temptation admeasure to have you inquisitive ..., and Francois your father, as if he were here in the arms of Priamo and Paris, in a pluralism of 1300!

With gall, tarnish, and Scientology I have frozen in your necropolis,
where I keep waiting to see if the astragalus will turn green on its twenty spellings, the warmth of your hands has delayed the reminiscence of enteric-speaking passion, tingling with hormonal satiety, with zephyr that is disgraced by the corruptible prism, with oculi that are archived for you, with each serving of the memorial fractal!

Caletres mine and corrode to the detriment, after judgments of others to see you winged Melusina, in tippable cuttings of our partial lichens, spotting the molds that are resurrected! thicken them and slide into passions beyond the platonic third itch, wielding three thirds that rule the sun, and that uncover my cell in Chauvet; The years fear the future when the transitive past ruled only when you saw yourself in the evasive Avignon Cathedral, around the requesting star of a Capuletto, or a Quentinnais who knows what it is to burn in the frames of the Mausoleum if it is an Eden, or a crass neo-Eden, cracked over my heliocentric love!

Transfinitos Calixtos finite modest when making you my Shemash,
brute medieval Christian doubt, the thunder of dedication and fervent holiness, his hand will drain away with the Greek Gallic host, sealing the fire of the bayard, that simpleton shudders mobile on the stars that open your eyes of the lintel and the dawn of it, which affronts decisive prose, and which should not be limited in the turpentine prose that threads it, with the darned language dreaded of the Anthropokairós, that is clogged with words and resins, towards mourning pistils in infamous brotherhoods, rising in graceful blizzards, and that shakes its veil of mobile touch of Gallic
Greca, forging revivals with quotes from Marielle during the day, falls into a lost day.

Decentralized and pseudo phases are vacated in the medieval indoctrinated stars, that freeze releasing in your hands on the snowfields, shining in fervor halos that desecrate, rather than a worse arrest that only tarnishes in terminology, and not in events and thoughts that decant more times than corroded prose by thousands ...
indivisible and atomistic the attachments model Marielle, which risks that multi expire, where I will never leave without the risk of her, between arms and hidden ages.

Long vigils, they reiterate what I undid of time in Arles in the hands of a desolate Ginés born from me, conceiving your burnished hereditary Greek accent, like a votive offering immersed in walls that slide in compressed water on themselves ... in themselves, they are hidden narrated and narrative, in trials that will make the ginés green, in sessile tragic anguish, permeating what hell was and that burned at your height without more than going up, without hearing if it became fruitless when it ceased its pulsation! Flowing into your rhythm, which always beat in your mansion hunch, and its working glasses.
  
I fled, but I never distanced myself, only my random feet were hardened on the cornice of heaven, always dramatized in the imagination that consoled me with an august and probable tragedy, far from vessels and glasses that were filled in ruined castes, condensed with humidity, and dewy Greco-Gallic dew, with flimsy nondescript lips that squeezed.

The great Valdaine was sprinkled with petals that puckered the Canephores, falsified in Persephone, overestimating voracious paternalisms that fertilize all the fields of the world, behind his inquisitive waistband, logging revived hearts on Patmos.

What agonizing pleasure registers face down in infamy at the death of a disaffection, he layman has fallen apocopes, with grandiose passions of faith to sustain himself, with shaken science in worlds that solidify his quarterly orthodoxy, with endearing unions in his bellies, with the secret of loving you like a Dominican ...
rational and undaunted symbols fall ..., lateral to see them lacerated,
Arranging yourself female in a heterogeneous century, being one and not, like a memory knife!

Not a centipede achieves it, nor the strides of a caterpillar with a hundred feet plus one, They are glimpsed with mystical postures and internships that make them an aspirant, but I do not confront anyone without my Xiphos, nor without the random zafral of possessing you,
I prophesy it in Valdaine or Helleniká, a transcript of the visionary temple that venerates you, and that is not overcome by uncontained ties or random and agile confinements to leave far away from you…, in pro cloister mechanics, where no millennium belongs!

The urgency of the gap strengthens in the head of my wayward Bayard, he declines and bows, evades itself of the raptor to feed itself, like me without losing you and becoming preferred to someone else's luck, knowing that chilly early mornings speak nothing of the mornings, that they shackle the night helped by the rooftops, and with accouterment fields to migrate them from their chains, coarse and one-eyed when they rise from their antlers, releasing shackles and cheeks, allowing a second to appear in their accent and of their great company, carrying the colt root, with gallic and unblemished sylphid greca; Oh venerable Greca, Gallic Marielle come to me!

Wonthelimar and Vlad Strigoi silenced the cobblestones that beat their eardrums, with the pontifical dispensation of the Argonauts who put matches in their neighboring ears to Orpheus, before the song of the Sirens, and of those who were reconciled, speaking of supra-earthly lives of the cloister, asking everyone on their knees in supplication, to remain united in the Vernarth trilocation asking the Lord to keep them together, before leaving for Crete. On the other hand, Dyonisius agreed to the procession of the vicariate that predicted, to assert this phenomenal event, coupled with Saint John of the Cross who joined in this segment, and who also praised the Song of Songs of Fray Luis de León, and of Giordano Bruno “De Umbris Idearum, from 1582; with the Supper of the Ashes, adoring the Blessed Sacrament. All this interchannel journey was carried out in the darkness of the Cave of Dyonisus, increasing the pleasure, and not the offense, for those who only want to calm his sufferings, which has no origin or destination?

Says Wonthelimar: “How to lose Grace, if she always glorifies me innocently, like the fear that is a faction of the Anthropokairós, making me fear more of it, and of what haunts me…, being more courageous than me when making the most terrible decisions. My life pact with Vernarth, which is the grace of walking without stopping until I don't reach nothingness, which is sometimes represented as a faction that has never become virtuous ... but infused!  But I have sought solitude after eternally losing Marielle Quentinnais, where I was also her Dominican friar, opening my entrails towards the conventual club of those who are more than once crucified "

After this soliloquy, he feels the aroma of some Lavenders that are propelled from a very clear angelic light ... it was Marielle who had followed him along with the Kyrios of Vernarth masters, helping him to orient himself with the princess pearl, who was hiding in the pyramidal conifers even his most chaste quilt that covered him with the petals and diadems in holy allegory. It seemed Nativity night, when Marielle was distended from her frigid attempts, towards the hands of her confidant Wonthelimar of her. The lack of recollection caused the torches that led them down a wrong path to go out briefly, were all without much hesitation genuflected for a formal spell, having been chosen by the hand of light and shadow, by a Being that It makes them serve themselves from a suspicious whole to the greatest of fears in nothingness, which would make them amnesiac and abúlic of a lost will. Mercies appeared next to Dyonisius who gleaned in the cave next to the Maenads "Where all the noblemen self-executed their values by being Parents of the World, in which they cannot self-sustain or sustain themselves." The prohibitions were made surreptitious, like royal nausea that lagged in their conversion that was attributed to them for reestablishments of sacred hosts that were calibrated for the common good, relating prosographies of the beautiful flowers that surrendered to the sacrosanct soil of the speleothems and Marielle, as a trance indomitable of a pilgrimage of the one who walks and leads him to an anointing, making tangible whoever denies himself or whoever it is? for the good of beings of the same time in the Dionysian ritual, with three bilocations or trilocations in which Vernarth fractured them tripartite, where nothing and nobody will move the hinges, that could be reconciled in an exclusive Empyrean, without goods or possessions that will take them even to the Spinalonga leprosarium, detailing decadent and unstoppable parapsychologies in beasts, rodents in dens, and birds that rest in the same nest in the fathoms of creation.

Everything rests on the scaffold that brought Marielle, up to the same tired and troubled sky where all the ghosts did it, nothing physical already existed, nor did it of its own accord…! They lit all the fire of the Apocalypse to continue with the alliance of their apostolates, deprived of character, where the right hand surpasses the left for those who expected favors from the bearer of the Misteri Deus Dyonisus, or from the full drama of the cloister of a protagonist undermined with his right hand, as a seer entity in circular centuries, and in times of contravened history, where the apocryphal domes will fall, up to the presbytery of Patmos. The third hour crushed the third-hour antipode, where the blasphemous love of Luzbel expired, never dying and expiring for the chained and hungry condemned, who did not want or should not abandon, being under the Creator Spiritus. The locutions were Saturday, full of the Magnificat that burst in from the fallacious murmur of infinity, and of lexicons that spoke for themselves in the paradigms of anteriority and posterity.

In Sicily Aeschylus agonized on the island of Gela, like an isthmus between two seas that led him to the God Dyonisius through the Hadic Speleothemes, here this god entered the skené of Euripides and Sophocles, under the support of Dyonisius and the father of Aeschylus; Euphorion of Eleusis. He was on his way to Gela when he was rammed and crossed after the temporary repercussion of Offensive on Salamis, meeting Wonthelimar and Vlad Strigoi as they prepared to head to the Cavern of Dionysius. The most unlikely of this parallel sequence stems from Dyonisius's spell of necromancy as he summons alongside them to lead them into the cavern. The scene or triple skené became feasible when Vernarth bilocated three times next to them scalding the campfire from the edges of the Profitis as if it were a lantern that flashed micro lightning, to reconvert the bilocated lights of Syracuse with those of Patmos simultaneously. Vernarth rises from the northeast edge of the Koilon of his theater and leads them with his incantation:

First Scene Dyonisius: “he was coming with his car of Thespis, with sparks from Catania, where he noticed that ***** of lightning appeared flying from the ether, and above them a triple frequency that acclaimed joining Wonthelimar and Vlad Strigoi. In concomitance, he rushes to Syracuse traveling at high speed, rising to the third light of the Menorah from left to right, in such a way that his horses squandered the fire on the golden grass.

Second scene Aeschylus: “he was going to Gela, brooding along the way with his reckless time, freezing the will that called him at that moment, and that yelled at him like Anthropokairós, deriving from his remaining spiritual memory, which warned him to do what made in a dreadful deleterious past. Avoiding him with their stiff arms when the ***** of lightning, they fidgeted to enter the scene of Salamis where he dealt with the Achaemenides.

Third Scene Wonthelimar: “he was with Vlad Strigoi, and this one next to him smelled of sulfur that he experienced with the closeness of some of them, who had already had a deal of caste and exultant existential drama. They were swiftly crewing with their transient elytra when they received the ***** of lightning, which were energetically prodding them"

Aeschylus was going to agonize Gela, after not doing it in Salamis, with some disappointment and supposedly having revealed the Mysteries of Eleusis, but he was not! Eagerly spurred on suddenly shook him when Vernarth bilocated appeared before him, broadcasting episodes of the sixteenth century, concisely from Fray Luis de León, regarding the Song of Songs who appeared from the ether passing through the triumvirate of lightning bolts that had him blown Vernarth, to show him his epitome of quantum parapsychology. When both were subjected, Aeschylus briefly understood that he perceived the judgment of Fray Luis de León by the Inquisition, for his ****** and philosophical expressions of character with his elevated prose. The dramatic anthology of Aeschylus, directed him to his Necropolis of Pachyderm in Gela, by abandoning the pairs of legs and arms of him. In the meantime from the agon or contest, Dyonisius snatched his Kairos as a singular man, and commanded the Hadic Speleothemes from where Wonthelimar came, to refer to him, just as he did with Euripides and Sophocles with the everlasting Frogs of Aristophanes. The parallel sequence of the trilogy characterized in Aeschylus continues, to end in the skené or culminating period, to receive on his head the inspiration of Vernarth's ball of lightning, already united with the three parts of him! The three scenes are combined with the interference and parallelism of Dyonisius, who exhorts them to go with them through the Speleothemes, thus making sure to save their celebrant souls and their anti-myths, who would unravel with this satirical drama with the batrachians, as a Vernarth's invitation to shake the destiny of each one of them towards a caustic reality, which breaks the man close to his agony, and in his proportionate death revealed as an existential tragedy close to the Anthropokairós omega. Therefore the destinies were stressed in three scenes that would be coupled with that of the axis of support of a death not specified by several that would continue with the same perenniality, in the company of Euripides and Sophocles, with the ballads of the batrachians of Dyonisius to enchant them as subterfuge and didactics, so that once they are captured in the gallery of the cave, and that they would be convinced with greater persuasion. The three scenes were made as one under the precept of Dyonisius, to adhere to them in the next before the Spinalonga parapsychology room, where three scenes would make tragedies and fables, which would follow from the throne of the stands with thousands of deceased who wanted to hear and re-listen from the underworld of the Speleothemes, going towards the Viaduct of Patmos.