Robert Alfonso's Writings
Lately, everything exhibits an air of immaturity, as if maturity is without emotion, as if it can only be achieved by old men whose wives have already passed and whose children have children of their own; who don’t eat very often and whose dogs sleep most of the day. Is it a mark of achievement that life has come and gone? That experience is not something to be...
i am that of which makes the worldsuch a hungry placethe thinkerwatches the writerthe writer writes about the prophetthe prophet preaches the truththe truthis thatthey’re all starving