Source
I keep walking on the edge of the vortex where there is the cruel reality of being a traveller in a continuous search, where truth or falsehood begins.
For they make us believe that there is something ideal in this circle without end, where one always dies and is born with the appearance that it will never culminate.
I continue with a hint of impotence and arrogance, reproaching what I didn't do or say when I see how the system takes over everything, creating confrontations where the moral resigns with the immoral.
And the reality is that we are contaminated with fears and prejudices, making us believe that breathing is the merit of the one who commands us, be it religion or hell.
I remain incongruent with my thinking, for I admit that we are not all prepared for another truth.
I am a prisoner of my emotions and in that prison I am dominated by the paradigm of leaving or staying there, perhaps waiting for others to free me, without constantly looking at what has rained on me as information that, when I die, if I am good, there will be a better place. Without being able to understand why I should live for today.
Sometimes I feel trapped in this labyrinth of beliefs and conventions, where truth and lies intermingle.
I question incessantly the reality that has been imposed on me, longing for a freedom that seems unattainable.
Even so, I persist on my path, knowing that the answer lies in the present, in that eternal moment that slips through my fingers.