The unsentiment

The same day equals the same night, every­thing is equal in the uni­verse of pos­si­bil­i­ties. Then why is noth­ing easy to do ? This is undoubt­ed because, to stay on the tightrope of beau­ty, you have to become a bal­anc­ing act, work­ing hard on the art of “unsent­ment.”

As proof, I would like to men­tion those who drown in the ocean of faith with­out drool­ing, almost out of drunk­en­ness ; or those who dark­en up to cal­cu­late only the deter­min­ism of facts, lazi­ness in the face of com­fort­ing cer­tain­ties. It takes real courage to mar­vel, to accept the humil­i­a­tion of our finite­ness, our anx­i­ety, dar­ing and some­times also faith to dance on burn­ing coals, this­tles sharp­er than swords, to face the dan­gers of silence. We know noth­ing, our learn­ing is our song, our enjoy­ment, and our melody.

If I could say every­thing, but I’m noth­ing, so lit­tle. I’m espe­cial­ly sur­prised to see the night com­ing. I bend to it because I know how to live in oth­er dimen­sions even if, to be hon­est, I have the old age to for­get them in the morning.