𝗖𝗿𝘆𝗽𝘁𝗶𝗰 𝗙𝗶𝗲𝗹𝗱

GEE💕

La Mappa dell'Inferno

You do not grasp the essence of the matter. Fear of failure does not daunt me, nor does the futility of efforts perturb me. In the end, it matters not if I achieve nothing noteworthy. Such measures are not how things are truly weighed. These are the fears of children and dreamers. As for me, I am accustomed to this. But what truly terrifies me is the disappearance of desire. Do you know what desire means to a man like me? Can you imagine waking up one day to find the restless fire in my heart extinguished? Or the sparkle in my eyes gone? Or looking at people and things with indifference, as if I were a taxidermied bull? I do not consider myself ordinary. It hardly matters to me how others see me, as a success or a failure. Most of my world revolves within me. My battles are fought within my mind. If others are content to let their lives slip away for mere iron, wood, cloth, and gold, I have not done so. If their plan is to toil like slaves for forty years to then spend their old age stretched out like seals on sofas, I was not born for this. I have never sought what should be sought, but what I love to seek. Yes, I have known sadness. But sadness was never a cave in which I dwelled. Rather, it was a bridge I crossed to something beyond. If you saw me broken and miserable at times, it never meant that the sea within me had calmed and surrendered, or that the howling wind inside me had silenced. Sadness is not the opposite of life; it is a part of it. Can we rejoice without being ready to cry? Can we delight in the sight of a newborn without being able to mourn the death of an elder? Or be happy about the fragrance of flowers and not saddened by a river drying up? I have lived my life astride the horse of desire, directing my gaze not towards what I possess, but towards what I do not. Bearing the eternal hunter's anxiety in my heart and eyes, always anticipating something to happen or not. Attentive to every sound and every silence, intently observing everything I see. What moves me in all this is only my passion for people and things. So, if you ever see me extinguished like an abandoned hearth, or calm and settled like a wall clock, then you may bury me. For the absence of desire is death.