Philosophy as a way, truth as a goal.
My subjective dimensional experience has made me realize that we cannot know everything, but can we even understand it? Is it possible to achieve linguistic precision?
Time, space, force, movement, energy and information, where my conscience ends and another begins?
The packaging era, When honesty is lost, then wait for the Hour.
Fear of knowledge is the beginning of wisdom, the actors, when they come on stage, and in order to hide their flushed cheeks, put on a mask. Like them, on the stage of the theater of the world in which, until now I have been no more than a spectator, I also advance masked and sometimes chained. When I attended, being young, some ingenious discovery, I wondered if I would be able to invent something new without supporting myself in the work of others. Since then, and little by little, I became aware that I was proceeding according to certain rules. Science is like love: fidelity derives honesty, but if it's given to anyone, it degrades.
I've talked for years
in case someone understood
what I feel.
I'll confess you tonight
that I've entered a port
and I've looked for a ship
to take me far away.
I don't want to see anymore the things
that made me feel this silence.