Distortion. Time and space, without doubt, not resist. It is highly implausible that we would go out free at the same time course and that the elastic resistance of nightmares do not come back as violently as we try to keep them away. The day is spent in frenzied stretch these stairs, in which words resonate and make incomprehensible meanings, which must not yield. Do not turn away, even if you hear your name called in these sound spaces. To believe that the breakaway is unpredictable, we can not be sure of anything, that our fate is highly unlikely ... Polyphemus we look there's eye that we have not drilled, in our haste, our unpreparedness? How have we forgotten to do?
Where is Odysseus, and how, without his help, would we hope to win out?
Our flight is slow and slower, as if our movements, by the irresistible force of some magical potion that we breathed in the dust chalk, were arrested in the spring, and then we started to descend the stairs in the morning light, we will not get down at nightfall, after the last light of dusk are extinguished, in-flaming . In the deep night, while we escape. Where is Odysseus, and his assured and reassuring possibility? It is possible that in our misfortune, we are alone in this staircase ∞, and that nothing happens, nothing it continues, there is for us to pursue our own shadows that our own shadows and our own anxieties, distorted and distorting. It is possible
that our world is empty and finite.
It is possible, I am afraid that the concrete surrounds us is the only source of our gray and indifferent world. That our nightmares are our shadows projected on the walls of indifference, that no Cyclops does not concern us in our flight absurd, his one eye fixed on us, we have failed to break through ... But where is Odysseus and his possibility?
0 comments:
Post a Comment