If I talk about me is to avoid taking for granted that my experience is universal. Don’t come to me searching for wisdom. My once existing wisdom was utterly lost decades ago.

I believe that wisdom dissapeared cause was raw and terrifying, so, as a cruel trauma, our psyche remove it so we can go on… But we lose all the depth and scope of sight we had… Maybe we thrive as species making the mass being ignorant… I have begun, more and more, to contemplate this possibility, according to latest deductions and meditations over human race.

I am able to remember my sensations and thoughts when I was just a toddler. Now I see my line of thought and I find it sharp and edgy, but not perceived like that in that moment, just suffering it without the notion of suffering.

I was simply perceiving reality the way it is. Beyond the world I knew there was absolute loneliness and despair. I felt it not like something bad or scary. I was simply feeling that emptiness so I knew I had to keep myself close to my security field.

My security field was my mother’s arms. Anything beyond that was dead and hopeless. My mother herself was in that space of solitude against the complete vacuum. There were nothing protecting her and I perceived it like that. And that feeling of universal emptiness was a continuum.

Then, when observing anything I remember, I used to focus on patterns and abstract backgrounds, and my inquietude was the void among the lines, which I never saw as flat colour, but as a tridimensional depth, as the flat blue under sea water: I was projecting my sight into infinite. And this was not «horror vacui», it was «horror solitudo».

What is more true than this? Solitude.

Late in life we realise (again) that actually we are all alone with just ourselves. Nothing, I repeat NOTHING, can change the fact that only us individually live our own life. We walk alone since our heart beats the first time in our mother womb.

I also remember the feeling when experiencing sunsets and sunrises.

Sunsets were always absolutely depressing. And they were also teaching the first lessons about frustration against inevitability. The end of the day and the end of the light. The moment in wich I had to be lonelier with myself: staying alone until I got asleep. My mind in front of the omnipresent Loneliness in the form of darkness and night silence.

Sunrises were a wonder and a miracle I am yet not ready to explain and express. Life in its more sharp and clear and exhuberant way of expression. And all my senses absolutely tuned to perceive it all. The memories I keep are a piece of art I try to maintain with me forever. Probably those memories will be the best image I cant take with me to death.

The wisdom of animals. The sensibility of animals. Clean sight, untainted mind, powerful heart. All lost. Compared to that I feel I live numbed now. I have learned to self-delude making me believe things and people will help me to live my life, to face my failed decisions, to waste my life time. So I walk blind, not feeling the knife edge under my feet, eluding the abysm that is waiting for me.

My former self was older, I can see it now. She arrived to me after having walked eons of time, confronting the profundity of eternal desolation without hesitate or surrender, without fear, without arrogancy.

I hope to learn how to become her again.

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