Feeling that life has stopped beating, that everything continues to move around you, but not knowing which direction the wind has chosen to go. The mind constantly comes up against one of its four walls, not perceiving how to desire, conclude or talk. The body, for its part, shows marked signs of fatigue.
What must we do to understand our existence? We want to avoid going in circles, but what results is a more or less square dance without elegance. Our time seems to be built in this way, dedicated to repeating past gestures, errors and wise deeds without any conclusion slowing down its impulses. Naive, we are. We can only be. We are thus trapped in a euphoric and bitter spiral. We want to move forward, and we are certainly moving forward. But at the bend, we take the same path again. We bump into the fractal walls of our hazardous possibilities. And we remain stuck in our ignorance.
We are also like those planets that gravitate around a moving sun. Their dust trails resemble DNA that our cells have already quickly imitated. We move, we go somewhere in the direction of the sun in its galaxy, in the same path of those stars that are moving away, fearful, from the black and dictator center.
My little trouble, my brittle anxieties are echoes of big distant bing-bangs and I am sometimes afraid of no longer understanding anything about I have humbly started to build, having the feeling of not inventing or creating anything. Everything balances out, doesn’t it? Nothing is lost?
Does the answer reside in silence? I am not satisfied with thinking that way. That is why I still stubbornly bump into the door of your thoughts. Because I hate being alone in this intoxicating and vertiginous turmoil.