If we say man, we say being capable of falling madly in love with someone who might never correspond. We say animal capable of lifting a tower beyond the possibilities of its own comprehension, capable of attending the fall of it, and capable of lifting even a bigger one. In man it is also angel, god, demon, mother, surprise and wonder of the only thing in a common way. To name the man is to name an animal that can love like any other animal; one that can let himself kill, and kill when what he thinks and what he feels are the same thing that demands it from itself.
I, that I been playing to be a man, I know that I’ve been staying with less and less people around. Like I also know, as the few ones that surround me and many of those that I have separated, that all distance and that all closeness has been and is deliberated like a natural result of certain aptitudes and certain proper and foreign attitudes put in interaction. When someone lies to itself doing someone else’s principles its own, but with which does not absolutely agree, beyond the consistent emotional hypocrisy, it only postpones the drowning using floats avoiding learning to swim.
There are no major worries, exactly because as I, later or earlier, there are the people who also learns to see it coming, and then yes, it stumbles two times over the same stone, even three or four, but even there. Since there are the people who leave “the habit” of certain errors, like answering to the slander of the needy, of answering the provocations of the emotional cripples accustomed to defend the proper misfortunes as banners before which major misfortunes neither exist, there are no fair words of kind comfort. There are those who reject, from its human skin, any Phoenix