“Precisely the invisible is, however, the best that anyone can say about humankind”. Sören Kierkegaard. Gabriel Puyó. From Cracks of illusion.
Are our prayers heard?
Solitary men and women walking the perpetual distance looking for the same… since the beginning of time… since the little bird in our hearts spread its beautiful wings…
In the river towards our final destination, everything counts… the dry leaf and the defiant deceitfulness, the thorn reaching out for the unfaithful petal, the blind light longing for peace in the shade of a humble sunset, the ancestral searching for being found… the obsession for snowflakes instead the empty- handed smile at the tender and anonymous morning…
What is what we all are looking for?
What is what is worth living for?
Is there any hope for any of us?
Just running away… from harm… from pain… from solitude… from silence… from beauty…
…where are the dreams of our wisdom?
The meditation of our sorrows separates us from glory… that glory hidden but patient, silent but loyal, apart but faithful.
Sameness of eternity…
Is there something in this decaying existence that lasts forever?
Soon it will be too late for later… the harmonious plot from the guardian angels is set… the Damocles’ sword about to expand its tentacles to decapitate our repented bravery.
An enormous smile contaminates all the grief around. Destinations don’t matter anymore because there is not ending nor beginning.
It’s just this flux that taints the stars to make sure that there can’t be any escape… this cruel flux that some call hypocrisy and others ignorance…
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