My novel is being read by benevolent souls. I’m taking my time to be patient. I have enough to do with a busy job, and I also have some other projects, including making my apartment a pleasant place to live. I’m even reading again. Not content with my reading left out (History of Pi too verbose), I turned to Sophie’s World.
All of a sudden, my soul woke up. It reminds me of my two years of philosophy (while I was writing my toast on my love affair). And all around me, this disturbing social movement, which seems to be growing (but that’s another story) and which calls for new aspirations to be defined (good luck?).
My thoughts, these days, are mixing, going in the wrong direction, finding their way back. I have a writing project in mind, but I hadn’t understood the meaning of it until now. Philosophers to the rescue. Philosophers who all talk about the same thing, about the emptiness, about the desire to find meaning. To incarnate, in other words, in this world.
This is not an easy task, which many leave to philosophers while they deal with the other emptiness they think is essential to fill: the stomach, the wallet, the belly of women, the collections, the manias and the empires of all kinds.
I have always had a poetic and philosophical style, which helped, if I may take this pagan parenthesis, by the Sun and Mercury in Sector IX and Venus in Sector X (right on the sharp peak of the MC). I believe that I will never be anything other than the creator of the party, breathing the rarefied air of introspection.
It is that, despite all the happiness and fullness that I have to live, with all the talents that I possess and that I explore, I feel the vertigo of this great void that surrounds my soul and that, one day, will catch me as it should.