When in our walk we begin to unravel what lies embedded in our psyche for some time now unmanageable to our senses of knowledge, little by little, we enter into what we say we are.
Submerging ourselves in a mist that is appropriate to our environment and survival, we try with subtlety and hypocrisy to only touch the edges of our "Being", a Being that still lies hidden to our feeling, to our living. We feel a somewhat strange and funereal discomfort as if we knew that going in there we would find the remains of something that we had, without realizing it, given up; as if in a perspective hidden from our conscience we were doing a few deeds so as not to arrive at such a place by wandering around but not yet finished...
