The astonishment

It always comes back to astonishment. In times that one might think more glorious, when stimulations were rarer, it was easy to be surprised by a fireworks display, traveling circuses, a B series film.

Now, as everyone knows, we are bombarded by gamma rays, WiFi waves, the burlesque carousels of TV sets and the intoxicating promises of politicians who have long since forgotten what a true ideal is.

We are offered weekly fireworks, and we are like those teenagers with too long arms who no longer know where to give boredom. Surprisingly, if we see the wonders of the universe unfolding before us, we still find ourselves yawning daily before the death of others, contenting ourselves with repeated little joys, pretending that our life is worth it, while we let this precious sap that is our existence slip through our fingers.

When I keep my thoughts and words quiet, all that remains is the sound of my breath, the beating of my heart, the river of my blood. I feel like an animal again. I realize that I am hungry, thirsty, afraid. However, I am surprised to be alive, happy to exist.

It only lasts for a moment, the time of real oblivion. And that’s the way it should be. The human being is a miraculous beast, in battle with its contradictions. It is both an angel and a demon. We unconsciously love danger, because we love to get drunk.

That’s why I keep writing. That’s why I’m always hungry, thirsty, afraid.