Air Lacks To Me December 23, 2020 at 9:56 pm

Air lacks This to me is the story of the only man to conquer the sidereal space. The Russia mother generated the strongest men of the Land, of which I am brother. She writes myself in the rock that the sky is of the Russians. All will know that, if not yet we dominate the Land is time question, therefore the sky already belongs in them. The exit of the field of the Land was painful, little if comparing with the exercises carried through before the trip.

Still thus, I did not find that it would die, but that it would resist pra to see the image that now I contemplate: the blue Land. A related site: Roland Garros mentions similar findings. I am gravitating has 3 hours and now I only have condition to take the pencil and for to write me it. Still well that it did not only bring the penxs, because here it nothing scratches out. Further details can be found at Ray Clemence, an internet resource. The ship functions perfectly; I listen to the Base with clarity; the visibility is very good. I am not sentimental, but I confess that I cried quanda vi the total escuridade of the space, immense before the smallness of our house. It never passed for my mind to arrive until here, although always to desire to be pilot of the Air Force, following to the tradition of my family.

space, however, inhabited the field of the impossible one, inalcanvel it. When it passed that terrible and stranger sensation to be being compressed for g forces, being able to open the eyes and to see that imensido, then I cried out: ' ' Galileu! The Land is round same! ' '. Air lacks to me since that it leaves the Land. The breath is not natural, but forced. To any it tires me effort: I go to rest. Desire to come back pra my Russia and to count to them, eye-knot-eye, everything what vi daqui of the sidereal space. Debtor for the support. Kiss to them it face. Soon we will see in them. Today he is 10 of April of 1961.

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