Load transmissions are performed vertically. The loads are held and by the columns all the efforts sink until they die on the site. It's impossible to avoid, it's the result of the attraction that the mass produces. If it exists, it will fall. Also, by imitation, we tend to teach what we've learned, by default, and gravity is no excuse.

As an activity for the summer that has just begun, I have set various objectives: to take out the driving licence, to work, to write, to organize the umpteenth issue of the Lower Band… In the meantime, I just want to lie in bed. The roof on the horizon, praise of horizontality. Restlessness inside, txiribuelta argumental to justify that I do nothing. Siesta, anxiety and dinner. Tomorrow, yes, I will remove an obligation on the agenda.

I've made a big investment these days puffing up my guilt, the stock is on the rise. The IBEX 35 has increased enormously, I am already paying interest. Producing headaches for eight hours a day is not an easy task, although it has no agreement. Under the dictatorship of productivity, you can't walk potro without feeling guilty. But I'm not a Christian.

You don't know when I felt guilty for the first time, who taught me, how to cope. You couldn't kneel in the confessional. Being part of a generation that has never gone to Mass has its charm, carrying all the weight of morality, but not finding peace. Hell yes, but by bicycle.

Global warming, increased prices of housing, tourist accommodation… in recent times everything is the responsibility of young people. It's also a big question, to talk about guilt and responsibility, as if a quick search in vocabulary revolutionized everything we have rooted in. Recycle, bamboo toothbrush and use of the term responsibility; spit to extinguish the fire.

The current brand is obsessed with taking money out of the hours that begin to rot. The philosophy of carved exploitation on the ribs, making croquettes with free time so nothing goes into the trash. Two blows for every second that dissipates.

Bone marrow production has become fashionable for a long time. Wake me up at five o'clock in the morning, make one hundred and two irons, twelve hours of work and sleep, to awaken perhaps a rich morning. [Lamias and tartalos of meritocratic mythology]. Spending days putting coffees and inheriting the company, you will need much more than magic.

Like the columns of the buildings, the burdens that have been put on us are too long and we begin to suffer the punishment. It is a cry to stop producing, to win the bingo of the deadly sins. And with a little luck, guilt will also die with the young.