At some point, many years ago, I got lost. I lost prespective, logic, sense and motivation.
I don't remember any especial thing that leaded me to this point. I haven't lived any experience traumatic enough to finish where I am. Simply, happened...
At some point, I began to make me questions. Questions without answers. Questions without any sense.
Has sense to live if finally we all going to die? From a romantic and idealistic, poetic included, point of view there would be thousands of answers, I know that! But from a practical point of view... Has any sense to build something which destiny is to disappear? What is the sense of the survival sense?
At some point I surrended. I ran out of ambicions, the capacity of dreaming, the will to live fast, the faith, the unconformism, be thirsty of answers, nihilism, combative spirit, ideals, projects, curiosity.... All that I had been acumulated during my youth and that now was the food to my soul. Does really exist the soul?
Today, many people tell me that this is the natural process of when one grows up. That this happens to everybody and that is simply normal. That life, the years, the past of time makes you grow up. And me, that since some years ago I don't find any sense to anything, I ask: Grow up? for what? What is the sense of this? After asking this many times, I have only found one answer. Growing up is to figure out that the death is every day closer.
I remember a sentence of the book Where the heart leads you: "If life has a sense-will tell you the voice- the sense is the death, all the other things just spin arround her. What a discover, that must die everyody knows. It is true, with our brain all we know that, but to know it with our mind it a totally different thing that to know it with our heart."
At some point, I don't remember when, I know with the heart that the meaning of life is the death.
And that day I began to die.
