On a soft, rolling hills, the wind moved the grass resembling small and quiet waves that were lost in the horizon, or perhaps they were the hairs of a giant, lazy, carelessly slept laying his head on the wet earth ... the sun partially hidden by clouds that seemed to play around trying to calm him caused hardly subtle and vague flashes after which seemed to rise with greater strength, warming every inch, every corner, every hole on the surface ...
The rattling sound of water among the stones and the wind on my face to crackle in my ears were all that could hear, after that there was only silence.
Still, for a time just to feel I just seemed to find myself in the middle of a dream in which all that mattered was being there, standing, without speaking, without moving, without thinking, just being ... was the most close to freedom, I thought, I had to do anything ... ironies of life ... wanting to do many things, now he felt no need to move, or to intervene ... "nothing" was all I felt I wanted to do ...
In the distance a figure had begun to form, was only a dim outline, vague , but moved ... I realize that I felt, I knew I was there, I understood that came to me, that I was his goal at that moment, perhaps always had been, I dunno, I do not mind not knowing, only one more thought, only that ... I could not fear.
When he was in front of me I could tell that this figure seemed to be me, but I was a different, naked, vulnerable ... her eyes lost in a dark sea, his body hunched over their shoulders as if bear a terrible burden, his arms almost touched the ground, their skin was different, could be seen through it and saw it all: guts, blood, lungs, heart, all dried up, all up, half-rotten ... when I returned I noticed his eyes had not stopped looking at me, seemed to know what you thought, but I felt nothing, still did not feel anything, nor sorrow, di pain, or even disgust, I felt nothing ...
raised his hand and grabbed mine, did it tenderly, as if not to me the least damage, and then squeezed, squeezed hard ... thousands of images came to mind, terrible, terrible, oh God that's what I see! wrinkle my heart, my soul is broken, my body, my mind is invaded by despair ... What is this I see, What is it that you show me? ... That voice!, I know, is my voice, that laugh!, My laughter, the tears!, Is mine ... and the pain?, That pain is not mine, that gap is not mine ... So many feelings together, so many images, so many sounds, such rot ... that I can not be me, No! Definitely not ...
Trying to avoid returning to the lethargy that caused me the landscape, trying to breathe some clean air that was still wrapped around me but that was when I heard his voice, the voice that froze my blood and nail in my heart like a sharp sword by thousand men ... "I am what you fear most, because what you fear most is yourself, I'm your truth, your reality, I'm what you've done for you ..."
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