The shadows of the Greeks

We had it, but we let it slip away, so fucking silently that we could never be aware of the elephantine loss. It was too good to be real, so we tried our best to prove it a shadow. Plato would have been proud of us. We were outside the cave and forced ourselves into it. We watched the movie and cursed the scriptwriter. Fuck, writers are just sadists, you know? But, what if we have some influence, no matter how tiny it may be, over the next scene of our lives? Yes, I know, it's safer to think the contrary, not to take any responsibility for the slow assassination of what should have been. But we are murderers and no jury could absolve us of all the little omissions that brought us here. Is "here" a place or just a state? I no longer have a clue. I only know that I know nothing. There you go. The Greeks again. Speaking of the devil, wouldn't it be easier if we could drown all our fears in the Aegean Sea?

Desastres (VI)

Hay silencios que retuercen las entrañas y otros que protegen de la lluvia. Tú siempre has pertenecido a ambas categorías.