It takes a lifetime to identify the problem

…that is, the things which block, suppress and minimize you.

You need an incredible readiness to put behind all rational thinking and trust the holy intuition.

Life speaks in metaphors. In parables.

Unless you heed the signs, you´re lost…

A rather puzzling predicament

You can´t go back. You are compelled to make a choice:

So what do you choose when all roads are a dead-end in front of you…?

Dare we acknowledge this?

Where there is no life there is terror. Fear in its monstrous disguise.

Violence becomes thus rampant as a compensation for not living. We fake and twist everything. There is no life, but ubiquitous absence wherever you go in this world. No wonder, terrorism is thriving. It´s intrinsically a manifestation of despair, ego´s maximum madness of craving attention. Ego´s self-punishment for being so fucking dead.

We have lots of options nowadays

…to change a prison with another.
And another…

We live in an age of beggars

…insofar as everyone is zealously chasing Attention.

Life is for the courageous

Everything put together by man, shows eventually to be incomplete – therefore corrupt and hollow.

So therefore,

If you want to heal, – that is, go beyond Fragment – it comes a point when the only option is to thoroughly and completely deny everything man-made. But that…requires enormous courage. But thing is that only the courageous – that is, the ones who truly thirst – will see Him…

I hallucinate therefore I am


I behave in a way at home, and have a different conduct when out. I am this one at work, and another when in leisure.

Living in this constant cleavage and disparity, CARRYING AROUND ALL THESE BURDENSOME MASKS…


How can people be sane living in such lamentable disunity?…

If I am to say something about myself, is that I am exactly THE SAME irrespective of contexts. I am the same when I relax, the same when I so-called work, the same when being alone or in communion with others. I have no need for masks.

Man’s greatest fear

Life moving according to no preconceived pattern…


Nothing is more daunting than this history-less and imponderable Instant…

Read poetry only to the poet

A rather bitter truth…
Cause really:
How could they ever hear your words unless
at some point they’ve been hit by IT…?