Bran the Broken

Before Jaime Lannister threw him from a turret, the child Bran Stark had dreamed to be a knight of the royal guard. With his back broken all his dreams came down. Analogously, before my parents dismembered my soul and my sister’s, I dreamt to be a film director.

Instead of a life in Hollywood I have spent most of my life in the cave of the Three-Eyed Raven among huge roots, dense darkness and skeletons to try to understand what happened in my family. Such time in that underworld, and thanks to the retrocognitive vision that I developed about the most unpleasant human events, has transmuted my soul into a kind of fusion between the Night King and Bran the Broken.

Although last Thursday I translated a few paragraphs from one of my books, I promised myself not to talk much here about what I have seen in the darkest passageways of the cave. But that does not mean that I cannot begin to translate it, tome by tome, so that my most intimate confessions reach the English paper. Only thus, in the printed word, it could be understood why I want only a fraction of compassionate whites to inherit the earth (as I said on the 5th of this month when talking about the novels by George R. R. Martin).

Unfortunately, apparently my main sponsor died and, since I must put some bread on my table, the translation of the twelve books will take longer than I had originally expected.

Published in: on May 21, 2019 at 11:25 am  Comments (3)  
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3 Comments

  1. The music got distorted in the above clip. A better recording (no visuals) can be listened here:

  2. Have you checked to see if the sponsor left anything for you in his or her will? What sort of person were they?

    • He was a single person from another continent. I guess he died because in my stats page no hit has been recorded from his small town since he apparently disappeared, nor emails have been answered.


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