Ocultos de las miradas indiscretas trabajan a la sombra de los viejos jardines botánicos, enmohecidos por el abandono de los decadentes gobiernos subsiguientes y con la ayuda de la discreta tecnología anti-espía. Un error tan simple y, sin embargo, costo un imperio. Hábiles programadores, magníficos estadísticos que olvidaron un detalle.
La historia la escriben los ganadores, la versión de los perdedores desaparece o es tergiversada y a pesar del aparente éxito inicial, terminaron víctimas de sus propias mentiras al no calcular los residuales algoritmos de todos los perdedores.
Aún lograron vencer al imprevisto mutante llamado el Burro, perdón, la Mula. No lograron prever que terminarían infectados con el mismo virus que tan discretamente y astucia sin igual vendieron por todo un siglo a sus vecinos, enemigos y hasta a los ingenuos aliados que lograron engañar.
Mientras la decadencia mina las bases de su sistema, las redes del futuro se tienden con toda calma y espera el momento de atrapar, esta vez, si es posible, de un solo golpe de mano el bicéfalo, ya no.
Penta céfalo imperio que ostenta al menos diez coronas.
Ya no le sirven las astucias con que vencieron a sus rivales, quinientos años de argucias y disimulos con que arruinaron a los que parecían más grandes, hasta terminaron con el único que existió por setecientos años, en el ombligo del mundo y muy opacado, vuelve a sonar su nombre por un tal Erdoğan, una vez alcalde de la legendaria Estambul.
Loros mensajeros surcan los cielos con mensajes que no pueden interceptar las tecnologías de 5G, ni siquiera imaginan su existencia, los zamuros (buitres) de la C.I.A. o el M.O.S.A.D., hasta los viejos sabuesos de la K.G.V. andan a oscuras y les será difícil detener los golpes.
En las nubes se refleja la silueta de Groenlandia o acaso sea de la península de Crimea. Llevan los mensajes al corazón de Wuhan, donde ya no experimentan con los vampiros a petición de la sociedad protectora de espectros y extraterrestres, que al parecer preside un Alfacentauriano a través de un médium que es su vocero ante la O.N.U. y el Vaticano.
Los frutos ya se ven maduros y los vientos anuncian tiempo de cosecha. Cuando llegue el segador, ninguno resistirá la hoja de la hoz.
Todas las fotogradias fueron tomadas por mi con una tablet fire HD 8 a pocos pasos de la puerta de mi casa y solo se recortaron para dar enfasis a los objetos captados.
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The Galactic Empire, a myth of the distant past, Gaia hidden from the uninitiated, awaits the emergence of higher consciousnesses. Only at the University of Trantaria they continue to study the advanced science of psychohistory, Dr. Vlavatsky with a dark olive complexion character advances their discoveries and found the flaws that did not allow the foundations to consolidate the second empire.
Hidden from prying eyes they work in the shadow of the old botanical gardens, moldy from the neglect of subsequent decadent governments and with the help of discreet anti-spy technology. Such a simple mistake and yet it cost an empire. Skilled programmers, magnificent statisticians who forgot a detail.
History is written by the winners, the version of the losers disappears or is distorted and despite the apparent initial success, they ended up victims of their own lies by not calculating the residual algorithms of all the losers.
They still managed to defeat the unforeseen mutant called the Donkey, sorry, the Mule. They failed to foresee that they would end up infected with the same virus that they sold so discreetly and with unparalleled cunning for an entire century to their neighbors, enemies, and even the naive allies they managed to deceive.
While decadence undermines the foundations of its system, the nets of the future are laid calmly and wait for the moment to catch, this time, if possible, with a single stroke of the hand the two-headed, not anymore.
Pentacephalous empire that holds at least ten crowns.
The tricks with which they defeated their rivals no longer serve them, five hundred years of tricks and dissimulations with which they ruined those who seemed greatest, until they ended with the only one that existed for seven hundred years, in the navel of the world and very opaque, returns to sound his name by a certain Erdoğan, once mayor of the legendary Istanbul.
Messenger parrots fly through the skies with messages that 5G technologies cannot intercept, they cannot even imagine their existence, the zamuros (vultures) of the C.I.A. or the M.O.S.A.D., even the old sleuths of the K.G.V. They walk in the dark and it will be difficult for them to stop the blows.
The silhouette of Greenland or perhaps the Crimean peninsula is reflected in the clouds. They take the messages to the heart of Wuhan, where they no longer experiment with vampires at the request of the Society for the Protection of Specters and Extraterrestrials, which is apparently presided over by an Alphacentaurian through a medium who is their spokesperson before the UN. and the Vatican.
The fruits already look ripe and the winds announce harvest time. When the reaper comes, none will resist the blade of the sickle.
All the photos were taken by me with a Fire HD 8 tablet a few steps from the door of my house and were only cropped to give emphasis to the objects captured.
Written in Spanish, translated through Google
