Sometime, a long time ago, I used to have the terrible feeling of a pain that wasn't real, the pain was not on my skin or in my bones, in fact, the pain was not physical, what it truly hurts, was the feeling of the existence itself. Something odd, completely unknown, that you know its real in the same way you know you can´t understand it.
Is that immaterial pain the reason that impulses people like Friedrich Nietzche, like Plato, or Kafka, to think far, far away beyond this world, and the results could be very dark and creepy, but also very beautiful and liberator, if you are one of those lucky man selected by I don't know who or God, don´t be afraid, your pain is going to be relieved, just keep looking and don't commit suicide, because that's fucking ridiculous.
Stay close, Reveitler.
