Ether

The ego must die

Stories of a dismembered life

The greatest illusion built by man snatches my life. Inexorable, overwhelming, it passes through my body and leaves a trail of death around me. I constantly fall under the inexhaustible, unstoppable, unshakable and cunning numbing whisper. Like doors that open and close without the existence of my individual desire, I give myself up in a dance of which I do not remember the beginning and I am not even able to glimpse if it has an end. And there we are all, dancers of life that we wanted to miss. Over and over again, like birdsong, we sing, day after day, hour after hour, until we get lost and for a single moment that is always now, savoring the warmth of intangible eternity, which always resists thought.