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Chapter 12: February 2016

February 01, 2016 - 2108 words - 11 mins Found a typo? Edit me


Traveling to Our Encounter

A continuous and changing void. Full of everything and nothing, of convergences as well as deficiencies, and occasionally, of ordered essences.

Traveling has taught us, among other things, to better understand that life is so different from how we used to conceive it… Opening new doors day after day with barely any breaks in between, where tranquility was already counted.

Minimum requirements evolve, and maximum possibilities disappear. There is no trace of the limits imposed in our youth on what we are capable or incapable of achieving. Limits? What expression is that…

Borders that did nothing but confuse our vision, prevent us from seeing beyond, and not allow us to feel what, otherwise, we might never have accessed.

Traveling has opened our minds more than we could have ever thought. Studying has given us the key to opening the doors we dream of and will dream of. Being ourselves has allowed us to be with those we truly wanted and will want. Dreaming has granted us to live, and living is allowing us to dream.

Unforgivable Youth

An unforgivable youth that consumes us along with our time in an apparent subjective sense that we decide to create ourselves.

The passage of days, of years…, of time in general. Careful! Let’s not oversleep more than planned, or we’ll be too clever, making a mistake once again.

When is the moment? When should it be? The problem is not that this moment has not arrived or seems not to arrive; the problem is not being awake and not going out to seek what we want to find. That means not being asleep but attentive in these waters that can swallow us at any moment. Not being asleep means learning to rest when we are exhausted. It means learning to swim, not letting ourselves be carried away by the current without apparent reason. It means learning to breathe even beneath the same sea. It means walking with and against the wind, learning from it and its freedom of movement.

Unforgiving youth is the one that, cowardly, hides, delegating its responsibilities to time, letting it carry them out without much intention in its understanding of its own unanimity. Devoid of meaning, our youth does not forgive. Confronting our adolescence with real linked suffering, as everything we have not yet overcome for our future will remain in our conscience. Who decided to be older? Did youth itself escape despondently? Who decided to be this or that?

When did we grow up? When did we stop being what we don’t remember? We should be satisfied with our decisions, especially if there were no other intentions than just being; breathing accordingly, and, as a future result, pardoning our past, an irreversible effect of our present in our consequent reality.


We must understand religion as something natural, inherent to a fragile race prone to mediocrity, where lies and deceptions stroll without our permission, being, therefore, intrinsic to our humanity. We could think with every right: “Poor those who want to be of this world,” but poorer will be those who do not.

Religion was born out of our cowardice, our lack of understanding, and our lack of commitment, but above all, our lack of sense and feeling as a divine species.

Is religion an error in itself? I don’t think so. I believe that religion is simply the result of another reflection, a symptom that we still have much to evolve.

The belief in something superior to us is nothing more than a reflection’s lack of strength in our world: our life. Religion is nothing more than the consequence of a significant lack that existed years ago. The fact that it still exists and is practiced with even a bit of enthusiasm says it all: a picture is worth a thousand words.

Faith in one religion or another, without distinction, reveals a lack of trust, as well as personal and individual meaning. We are not here seeking or pointing fingers. We are all part of our ecosystem; we are all part of the same in the end.

Religion is nothing more than a false and unnecessary self-suggestion of the existence of a higher authority. We speak here of “unnecessary” from a perspective above the norm: as a species that doesn’t understand that there is nothing superior to itself.

Is it possible to understand religion differently? Of course, look at the people who, though backward and cowardly, understand this topic. We say “backward and cowardly” referring to those who do not dare to be above themselves. Therefore, they lag behind in their potential compared to those who dare to live in their deserved greatness. Many simply excuse themselves by saying that religion is good and helpful; damn religion! It wasn’t her, but us!

Religion is the belief that we were neither nor are. What nonsense! We were, are, and will be. It was us who annihilated in the name of religion. It was us who helped in its name. We do everything, not God or any of his children or prophets!

Don’t be fearful! The world can be as wonderful as we decide with our attitude toward life, for there is no greater secret than knowing ourselves and being aware of our power and wisdom. The use we give it will be decisive in defining our successes and failures and, thus, the quality and meaning of our existence.

What is the difference between believing in a God and believing ourselves to be the gods of our lives? It is straightforward: self-determination, as well as the responsibility it entails. We are not here trying to dismantle any falsehood or certainty. Everything is in our minds; the direction we decide on will reflect our maturity.

There will be no God or destiny that can guide us toward correct conduct or absolute truth. Within our logical limitations, we are unlimited beings. Above any belief will always be our freedom, which will steer the course of our path, above any inevitability, where the transience of our goals becomes evident. Above any divinity or belief, we will be ourselves as we were, eventually ceasing to be and resting from so much turmoil.


Definitely, we are not supermen, but that shouldn’t be any problem, but rather our sincere feeling toward its tendency. Definitely, we are not, but believing it at times could bring us closer to it.

Destined for life to live until death. Destined until our last days to a tireless life of weariness. Destined for an immature and senseless destiny where it wouldn’t even recognize itself.

Definitely, we should learn that tiredness can sometimes be inevitable and that our reading comprehension of life can and should evolve. We can be as much as we can imagine but, above all, we will be as much as we demonstrate.

Definitely, the wind will carry words away so far and so far… until they remain in their warm forgetfulness, thus nullifying any memory and abundant absence of them.

We should decide to write a book, our book. Write it slowly, savor each of its words as we have never been able to enjoy, imagine each paragraph as the last one we could write, and carry it out as if our life depended on it.

We are not supermen, and definitely, believing so wouldn’t make us one. It is, therefore, from where this simple, logical, and absurd obvious sentence arises: believing that something is or exists is not even a minimally conclusive proof of its truth. Believing it would be ridiculously foolish.

It’s a matter of a sincere feeling toward what we really say or think, that is, what we are. Not saying or thinking inevitably leads to not being.

Turns and More Turns

Ideas that flood us and accompany us without notice, without even warning us of their arrival. The same ideas that will linger in our minds without a date announced for their final instance.

An immeasurable sensation of questions without answers. A cautious and distrustful restlessness, wrapped in paper. In love with itself, but, in the same way, with its opposite, as nothing will remain in the end.

Warm emotions without warning interfere with our minds without permission, alarming our most prudent beings and invading the course and everything we carry in our minds.

Distrustful of external ideas that pierce and reveal in a spring of mysteries that don’t stop turning among themselves or playing tricks, inviting us to madness. A world where the sensible people seem to be those who do not know or love not knowing.

Where ideas play without rules, disordered and arranged, governed by what we still do not know. A world of possibilities that surprises us every day. It floods us with its wisdom and brings us closer to our idea of being. It transforms us and shapes us with the mold we began to carve in the past.

Accurate suspicions that point to more. Outlined opinions that only wish to be born to shine as they deserve and die as they should.

Warning us of what is happening. So many nerves without an apparent name that, of course, deliberately hide it. We must appear and warn ourselves, as it is a simple alarm where the cause hides behind a possible discouragement.

Repairing our breathing again… Imagining that all these turns were born from somewhere.

Everything is in its place, each in its orderly measure. Apparent concerns don’t have to be evident or even exist beyond our minds. Let’s stop believing in this or that without alarming reason, as the only urgency is to know that in our power everything ultimately resides.

But it is true that clarity may take time to manifest, and until then, it is more than understandable to feel misunderstood, disturbed, and even scared. Let’s feel free to feel it, to feel like ourselves. But let’s not forget who we are, please; write if necessary.

So Easy

It’s so easy to get lost when everything seems to be achieved… When everything appears to have assured stability, and we believe it, that’s when everything tends to become unstable. Where did our desire to thrive and improve go when everything wasn’t won yet? I think we simply fell asleep or, in other words, let ourselves be lulled to sleep.

We shouldn’t believe that this is something negative at all. Our primary task is to learn, especially from those situations or moments that we wouldn’t want to experience again. Learn that appearances tend to deceive at first glance, but above all, learn that we must be bolder with our reality.

It seems that we tend to neglect when we fall asleep or even leave the autopilot on because we think everything is already done. We couldn’t be more wrong. Inactivity is what will ultimately destroy us and shape us into something far removed from the idea of Superman.

The lack of action on our part as individuals crumble us and rob us of meaning with all our rights. And it’s so easy to end up asleep without ambitions that awaken us… Because we tend towards mediocrity.

It’s so challenging, apparently, to stay awake in this reality where sleepwalking predominates, where the main issues seem to lack clarity in their perspective. Where normalcy suggests having found a place to stay without being obliged to pay for its stay.

The difficulties we encounter in our reality could not be more interesting from the point of view of those who observe or suffer them, automatically becoming achievements to attain and overcome. It is true that there are obstacles and inconveniences that make life, at times, a continuous torture where we can’t help but desire to escape until it all passes.

The real problem is not the problems themselves. Life is full of tragedies, riddles, and mysteries to discover… The real problem is not confronting what causes these uncomfortable feelings, not facing our difficulties for fear of unleashing another possibly internal conflict against ourselves because who could contradict themselves?

It’s so easy to fall asleep wishing to escape from everything…, especially when life doesn’t seem to have intentions of extending a helping hand. Staying alive is, at times, so difficult to believe, as wherever we look, we commonly see extinguished souls, aimless, not knowing even where they are going or where they are headed.

I believe, therefore, that these should always be our main concerns. Sleeping is healthy, but “sleeping through life” will cost us the same. In this context, we should stay awake, but it’s not easy. Who said it would be, after all?