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We necessarily live alone

Modifié le : 2019/08/06

We nec­es­sar­i­ly live alone with­in the elas­tic walls of the apart­ments of the body and mind. There are indeed the ghosts of our ideas, the spir­its of our mem­o­ries, the films of our habits. There are also those strange oases of ener­gy, stuck to our skin, in the ear­ly morn­ing, that smile at us, those dis­tant tele­vi­sion demon­stra­tions, writ­ten or sung, those pass­ing islands that, with their eyes, anchor them­selves to your gaze and con­tin­ue their pil­grim­age with­out slow­ing down.

Above all, there is this insis­tent beat, this trem­bling of blood, this water that keeps return­ing to the same mill, feed­ing a tena­cious exis­tence. There will be none of this any­more one day. Things, both moun­tains and grains of our thoughts, will still con­tin­ue on their way.

We have to live alone because we are noth­ing. How­ev­er, even if we are small among the oth­er links of the chain, the fact remains that we can feel with ver­ti­go the entire height of existence.

It is enough to look, to be silent, to speak after­ward, even if there will always be this end­less echo to answer our igno­rance. We are real­ly very few things, and that does­n’t matter.

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