Today, while returning from a Spiritual Zen funeral, I glimpsed from a small corner ..

My shadow running, swollen outside my body ..

It was a loud symbol of the intelligentsia astonished by the difference between democracy and dictatorship ..

When I was overwhelmed by a cold charged with apology and disappointment..

And more ..

 A huge desire to get rid of myself, so that the truth does not kill me when it deeply sows in a person’s soul the seeds of fear of eternal night, and for those who have not planted their existence inside the ebony box of the harshness of short worldly nights ..

What worries me most ..

Is that I did not find myself 

For I fear losing myself in another being .. 

For the wonderful things did not come once after another, to become a life philosophy until dying, or for it to die within you ..

How can I explain to you?

I know that I was often late ..

Sorry for the delay ..

I was never alone, and I never worried about loneliness ..

I will not blame you ..

Nor on our innocent lips with love,  

Or anything that could drive me mad 

It seems to me that all of that is meaningless, and we are sliding into the glowing ashes where the sun is covered with a mask 

I know well ..

That the best capture of meaning, about the absurdity of life lies in the image of "Sisyphus" and not his argument?!

The painting by the Spanish painter  

"Pablo Picasso"