You Are Done For - A Living

I Don’t Understand Why We Must Do Things In This World, Why We Must Have Friends And Aspirations, Hopes And Dreams. Wouldn’t It Be Better To Retreat To A Faraway Corner Of The World, Where All Its Noise And Complications Would Be Heard No More? Then We Could Renounce Culture And Ambitions; We Would Lose Everything And Gain Nothing; For What Is There To Be Gained From This World?

Even When Nothing Happens, Everything Seems Too Much For Me. What Can Be Said, Then, In The Presence Of An Event, Any Event?

An Aphorism? Fire Without Flames. Understandable That No One Tries To Warm Himself At It.

The Amount Of Chiaroscuro An Idea Harbors Is The Only Index Of Its Profundity.

No One Recovers From The Disease Of Being Born, A Deadly Wound If There Ever Was One.