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The astonishment

Modifié le : 2019/08/05

It always comes back to aston­ish­ment. In times that one might think more glo­ri­ous, when stim­u­la­tions were rar­er, it was easy to be sur­prised by a fire­works dis­play, trav­el­ing cir­cus­es, a B series film.

Now, as every­one knows, we are bom­bard­ed by gam­ma rays, WiFi waves, the bur­lesque carousels of TV sets and the intox­i­cat­ing promis­es of politi­cians who have long since for­got­ten what a true ide­al is.

We are offered week­ly fire­works, and we are like those teenagers with too long arms who no longer know where to give bore­dom. Sur­pris­ing­ly, if we see the won­ders of the uni­verse unfold­ing before us, we still find our­selves yawn­ing dai­ly before the death of oth­ers, con­tent­ing our­selves with repeat­ed lit­tle joys, pre­tend­ing that our life is worth it, while we let this pre­cious sap that is our exis­tence slip through our fingers.

When I keep my thoughts and words qui­et, all that remains is the sound of my breath, the beat­ing of my heart, the riv­er of my blood. I feel like an ani­mal again. I real­ize that I am hun­gry, thirsty, afraid. How­ev­er, I am sur­prised to be alive, hap­py to exist.

It only lasts for a moment, the time of real obliv­ion. And that’s the way it should be. The human being is a mirac­u­lous beast, in bat­tle with its con­tra­dic­tions. It is both an angel and a demon. We uncon­scious­ly love dan­ger, because we love to get drunk.

That’s why I keep writ­ing. That’s why I’m always hun­gry, thirsty, afraid.

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