Me duele muchÃsimo.
Today I've been informed of a terrible thing. There's one less light guarding humanity. Fernando is gone. I don't know the day nor the cause, and as always the only sure thing is death. How f*cking strange can life be? When I heard it, I crumbled. In more ways than I thought or at first recognized.
Since I've been atheist, I've wondered how would I "pass" a near death incident. What would I do if someone near dies. It was a bliss and a curse that I'd activey tried to detach from my life as a Misionero. And I'll remember for a while what I felt after hearing the bad news, nothing at all. The world became a point so far that nothing could harm me. Of course now I see the defense strategy, but there I just b*tched myself for not sensing it. I told myself, if I had let my soul die. All the afternoon I wished to get out of my work. And almost every word I heard I understood it the harsh way "I'm alive and hate it, feel pity of me" every time I heard a complain. That was half the time. The other part it was just banal a superficial on my crashed ears.
Of course that wasn't so simple. I, really, had many thoughts running side by side. There was also my little psycologist, which I believe others call my superego. A profession (the superego-part) who for a while hasn't done it, I think. Part of my grand scheme to be a better human, I thought. But I, as well, should reconsider it. Maybe. There was also the ever going complain, I should have tell him, that every mourner has. The thing is, that over all the human population, he was the only one I wished to tell that I'm atheist. This may sound overcomplicated, so be it. If I ever had a strong spirit guide on the religion thing, he was. And I, so many times wished to tell him. But I was afraid, to let him down...
I'm still atheist, but I wished to say farewell. And there's a part of me who dreams about a certain proof I asked a long time ago. Now I feel, sort of, fine. Imagine a survivor from a flood. Only one choce, but to keep on. Many lessons I could preach, many thing I want to say, but none matters. I'll survive, Isn't?
Today I've been informed of a terrible thing. There's one less light guarding humanity. Fernando is gone. I don't know the day nor the cause, and as always the only sure thing is death. How f*cking strange can life be? When I heard it, I crumbled. In more ways than I thought or at first recognized.
Since I've been atheist, I've wondered how would I "pass" a near death incident. What would I do if someone near dies. It was a bliss and a curse that I'd activey tried to detach from my life as a Misionero. And I'll remember for a while what I felt after hearing the bad news, nothing at all. The world became a point so far that nothing could harm me. Of course now I see the defense strategy, but there I just b*tched myself for not sensing it. I told myself, if I had let my soul die. All the afternoon I wished to get out of my work. And almost every word I heard I understood it the harsh way "I'm alive and hate it, feel pity of me" every time I heard a complain. That was half the time. The other part it was just banal a superficial on my crashed ears.
Of course that wasn't so simple. I, really, had many thoughts running side by side. There was also my little psycologist, which I believe others call my superego. A profession (the superego-part) who for a while hasn't done it, I think. Part of my grand scheme to be a better human, I thought. But I, as well, should reconsider it. Maybe. There was also the ever going complain, I should have tell him, that every mourner has. The thing is, that over all the human population, he was the only one I wished to tell that I'm atheist. This may sound overcomplicated, so be it. If I ever had a strong spirit guide on the religion thing, he was. And I, so many times wished to tell him. But I was afraid, to let him down...
I'm still atheist, but I wished to say farewell. And there's a part of me who dreams about a certain proof I asked a long time ago. Now I feel, sort of, fine. Imagine a survivor from a flood. Only one choce, but to keep on. Many lessons I could preach, many thing I want to say, but none matters. I'll survive, Isn't?
posted by Guillermo at 9:35 PM
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