An organism on the edge of life.
He suddenly managed to change our lives.
It destroyed a saturated system, a world based on veneers that was sluggishly regressing.
Perhaps it gave us a chance to quiet, for a pause.
But he doesn't know that, he just follows Nature’s matters. Nature simply flows. So do we, even if we are not fully aware of it. We are no more linked.
An organism on the edge of life, being unable to live independently except within other living creatures. To then destroy them. I wonder why, since it dies too. He could just colonize bodies and stay in there, in peace with everyone. And then there's us, doing the same to our Planet, colonizing it and destroying it. No. Actually, we're not a kind of smart virus either.
It's hard to explain this feeling of death, when you realize that we are the only ones affected by it, that flowers blooming on, that trees and plants grow, sun smiles and rain dances. It’s hard to put together these two opposite things: the death I feel inside, with the beat of Nature, powerfully coming from outside.
The Beauty and the Sublime, now I understand what Burke and Kant meant.
The feeling of Death. Of extinction. The end of an era. With every decease, I get panic and anxiety, something breaks off inside me and another little piece of me goes silent. Castled in my inner tower, face of all this I felt my smallness and my helplessness, and both my convictions’ walls and my "conceptual archaeology", are slowly crumbling apart. I've been watching myself. I got plenty of Time. I got time to communicate with Time. It's shown me the many possible lives and ways. I just have to choose one and I haven't yet. But Time keeps on flowing.
I'm not letting off steam on food in these days. That's a frustration of the pain of living, of the boredom demanding body’s tear apart. But there's so much more in here. It's something extremely strong that really took me back to when I was a little girl. That fear that freeze you. I often feel cold, I call this “blue bloodstream”. As if iced water was flowing instead of blood.
I can't help but ask myself too many questions about this situation, as someone suggested... indeed it's quite the opposite. And I always go from macro to micro, as if our personal experiences played a role in all this. I wonder to what I've given importance so far. To all my anger essentially. I let myself be transported by appearances, unglued from its real content: disconnected from who I am and who I wanted to be. I have built a Kingdom of sand within me. Now I have a chance. To give it foundations to make it true.
It’s not being stuck at home that bothers you, giving you the sense of a cage or a prison, but the fear of never being able to see again, to touch again, to hug important souls in your life again. The Beauty.
I watch Nature and I watch people. Those people I've always looked at suspiciously and with bother. I look at them. I wonder what they're feeling. If and how they've soothed their minds. From afar, I can see their slow moves; from close up, I can see their eyes. I finally feel my and their emotions, in a flowing and powerful way; I am moved, crying tears of sorrow and not of anger.
People are not so different from me; there is no need to fear or despise them. They are exactly like me; so there is no need to fear or despise myself.
An organism on the edge of life.