Stronger than us
Within us are the reflections of an ocean that will always submerge us. Everything is stronger than us. When we are born, the cycle of planets will have impregnated its bucket into our DNA. From that moment on, we cross the helical spirals of our moods and destinies. No matter how much we say, how much we do, how much we take control of our impulses and harness our thoughts, there will be at least on the way this final stop that will halt the most stubborn of all attempts.
We will then say that the boundaries of our freedom lie in understanding these limits, in the humble acceptance of its powerlessness. The reality, the great one, the one that can be capitalized if it can reassure, this reality seems to be a sum, or rather a median of all egos. However, those egos must be able to measure themselves against the monsters of existence that are the stars, galaxies, and superstrings of space.
But what is the point of measuring yourself since even black holes are lost in conjecture? An asteroid too small to be detected has recently brushed against the Earth. The scientists shivered because they didn’t see it come in.
We are ignorant and unskilled. Since everything is stronger than us, we take the liberty of making absolute certainties that, according to history, will always have led us to murder, to war. Are we at this point in time repeating, if not understanding, the vicious circle?
We, the little people, submit. The others, the people in power, do not know which button to press, are stuffing themselves, just like us, with alcohol, hopes, and pills. We will eventually die, alone or by killing others, unless another comet comes in the meantime to put an end to this circus.
Everything is stronger than us. This shadows our fighting spirit. So we try to light up all possible thoughts so that we stop being afraid. It is a miracle that the universe manifests itself in this way. All we have to do is to sit down, become aware of that, so a relative calm can soothe our body entangled in a hallucinogenic brain
Is there something to think about? Sometimes I don’t have the energy to ask myself that question anymore. But I can see myself doing this now. Is it probably the age? It seems that this distancing is a form of wisdom that will never lead us anywhere because it is in silence that contradictions seem to be resolved and lived.
