In search of

Joy should, in my opinion, be lived as intensely as sadness, the senses should drink every moment of light as if the smallest of feelings contained the strength of a single photon. The temporary is extraordinary in that it is inexhaustible and straightforward. All you have to do is pick it, and blind yourself to it, drink it. The challenge is probably to understand this thirst, to separate the good from the bad, to remain frank and truthful. Our freedom of wonder is still fragile, our quest is personal, and few can understand it because few listen.

There are too many to laugh at, to mock who we are. There are louts, moved by a venom that macerates in their wounded brains, which will hasten to cut off your head, to bite you until the death of your hopes.

The reflex will be to send them back the violence they want. I prefer to insist otherwise, to change the route, unless they also take the same path to harass me more. Then I can turn around and kill them because my quest does not tolerate obstacles.