Alert to Navigators:
As much as I wished this were true when I wrote it in the year 2000 and however much I wish it to be true even today, 21 / 01 / 2018 is not the telling of a fact
A CURE FOR AIDS WAS NOT DISCOVERED.
This text does not announces the cure for AIDS, although I would very much like to, someday, give this news.
This text is the outline of a dream that, I'm not sure I can give, about how I would like my text published, my eventual publication of the Healing for AIDS;
Well, I wrote, in 2000 years, exactly in the year of 2000, a hypothetical story about how I thought it might be the headline of the discovery for the cure of AIDS.
Moving from what a great friend of the past called "my writings" I rediscovered the text and, clarifying that I am not informing a true and authentic matter, but a thought, a fantasy of mine, when I was still able to present as Claudius , the Celerado, and did it more in obedience to an impulse and there is not a belief in me as a scoundrel I pass below, in a sequence of CTRL + C & CTRL + V to the complete set of writing, without edits
Claudius, the Celerado (that's how I signed it).
18 May 2000
I had a dark night. I begin to think that smoking does not suit many things ... especially with oxygen and lungs.
But it was quite profitable to think.
I remember one day I told a friend in this room that I did not think or dream of a cure. It might even be true; but I've changed my mind. I think of cure, yes! Like a caged bird I thought of freedom, I think of healing. Why not? Why is it seemingly impossible? Reason too weak. I have the habit of wanting just what I can not have. Healthy habit according to some; according to others, mania.
Then I'm a maniac. And, as a maniac, a dreamer.
Then, with nothing to do, other than to cough and think, I dreamed. Like this:
Today, 18 day of May of the year of the Lord's grace of 2000.
Amazing headline in every newspaper.
DISCOVER THE CURE FOR AIDS SCIENTIST APATRIDA DISCOVER THE CURE
And below that, a whole page describing the scientist. The illustrious Vladimir de Souza Struvensko Giannetti Müller of Oliveira Chevalier. A seemingly distracted man, unable to take 30 steps without stumbling in his own feet, who is always apologizing, coming late (is it with himself?), Forgetting his glasses and his wallet, which does not pay the bills in the day and that never been able to get married because he always forgets, the phone of his new girlfriend ... a good man, but a fool. Humble, he informs that he actually received the hint of the possible cure of a shaman of the lucuca coluca tribe, inside a tropical jungle. The thing ... was the vegetable base. Just like yams, potatoes, and some really weird mushrooms, from the ones that make you think you're the spider man or Lois Lane. The cost? Very low. The facility to produce? Indescribable. Someone already made tea? Well ...
Of course, on the same day, the TV stations would not talk about anything else. That, at least until ten in the morning, when the representative of science would be considered orthodox would begin to manifest. They would say that everything is still very premature. That ten cases of healing proved nothing, that there is still much to be researched, that no hopeful expectation has yet been created. After all, we have invested (...) millions of dollars in this and we have not got anything yet, it is not possible that it is that simple.
Running the grocery store and the pastures would become insane. I see people bringing cows home and treating them as a family entity.
Then he would call the police, the army, the Gestapo, but it would not do any good.
Day by day the news spread, people saving themselves, while they think they are Peter Park (there would be, in these days, many excoriations, of all order); the serious scientists would be furious. Azar of them. What would even matter would be the sense that more than 40 millions of people would have been freed from this terrible weight, of this seemingly indelible mark that is HIV positive.
There would be no more pain.
There would be no more toxoplasmosis
There would be no more Kaposi sarcomas
There would be no more pneumocystis.
There would be no more chronic pneumonias
There would be no more cytomegalovirus
More cytomegalovirus retinitis
There would be no more blindness
There would be no more chemical dependence
There would be no more doubt.
There would be no more certainty
There would be no more fear
And life would be as it was before.
What was life like before? I almost do not remember.
But I have a vague feeling that it was something like not being afraid to have sex with that beautiful brunette who spent the afternoon there in Armando Sales; which was something like not seeing the doctor every 30 days, such as not having nausea and headaches all the time. But that's just an impression ... I'm not sure ...
What I'm sure is that I dreamed of it, tonight, and who was a very nice dream, that made me, even, sleep ...
Maybe 4 hours. But for those who do not sleep at all, 4 hours is never a rare gift, and I thank this gift to God, as if I would thank the Lord for the diligent attention paid to a Page, who knew nothing of molecules, transcriptase and proteases; but that he had with him the wisdom of the simple ones, who pretend nothing and solve everything, like those pharmacopoeias sold in a kind of mambembe, in the old west.
Time to wake up, go to the bank, face the mustache and your interest rates.
Let's get back to reality