Fuzzy Contours

He contemplated his burial with the regret of who had died accidentally.However, the death had been a conscious choice.That's what he told me with eyes clouded by tears, what he did to this time believe him immediately. The great novelists should always give them the benefit of the lie.To summarize the story he told that on a day of boredom, in front of the screen, he decided to star in one of his characters. Not one anyone but his followers, that which had no antagonist, by what he considered a delicacy of postmodern realism that novel. I.e., I didn't have a physical character like antagonist, the conflict was guaranteed by the arduous efforts of the main character in his ideal of liberty, equality and fraternity, as it somehow, since it was considered unnecessary to innovate in a consecrated formula.That was how it was presented, paladin of the terminally ill, defender of oppressed workers, loot farmers, those who suffered from hunger and lack of Justice, all exposed with the exuberance of their ingenuity and brilliance of its expression in narrative prose and poetry, especially in poetry. Because then he learned that in addition to his talent for creative writing was expressed with glare in tidy verses, which aroused a mixture of adoration and envy in other poets and pseudo poets who met to her around, sighing ones and others by the grace of a comment yours, a word at least, although it is confined to the gift of an insult. Everything was better than endure the gall of your indifference because to your revolved around the planets. Hero of all battles, made sprout the fervent admiration of men and afrenzied passion for females. To all you rewarded with equal generosity literary and poetic.I heard him with interest and without too much surprise because he knew his talent and knew it capable of such acts even in real life, even more so in the blustery atmosphere of the virtualities.