On Saturday of the week before I went to bed at night and thought about mother, saying to myself: «I don’t know whether we keep on existing after die and, even we can keep existing, whether we can do it for so long». Although we cannot think on time and talk about time on a hypothetical Beyond...

Thus I challenged: «if you still exist, give me a signal, because much time has passed and I never felt anything else again as before for several times».

The day after, I forgot everything. Nevertheless and don’t know why, I decided to begin the revising of Spanish version of my «Holocracy...» on that day, which lonely and honorably starts with an excerpt of one of her poems in page two: «I release myself from all past § And wake up, applauding § All republics that did not come yet».

High night, I had to sleep and went to bed. But before do it, I wanted to revise, in a glimpse, the text already corrected. And what it was not my amazement, the crumb of the poem was not there: the page showed itself to me to be quite empty, in white. And I proved it to myself for more than twice: nothing else was there, as if the fragment had volatilized itself.

Then I decided to open the pattern text and copy the fragment, to be enabled to paste it on the top side of the page two again. And when I went to that page two to do it, I surprisingly found out that the writing was there again, unscathed.

Only then I remembered my thoughts of the night before...

In fact, the relationship between me and my parents, as others I had, went further and touched another plan, another level, becoming sacred.

EV,

4^th July of 2015.

[ https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oTL_A5-ajME ]