The poor man, on questioning ‘his lord’ suffers from his afflictions, begs for freedom, and cannot clearly see why he has such deprivation, why is he such a slave. As he reports himself, he has had enough of the banquets – always satisfied -, but he cannot find the substance that differentiates it from a simple animal, that only lives the today. It is stuck in its own vision limit, a short and finite horizon, worthy of who is only flesh, waiting for the end, immobile, inherent to time – from the unmatchable Chronos.
Published by Vinícius Capucho
A dreamer, how they like to stress, a man which destiny was always drawn based on faith. I don't just want to sell books. I want to sell an idea, or give an idea, a breath of consciousness. My project is not for today, a month or a year, but. I'm purely philosophical and spiritual. I'm only 32 years old and Intend to transcribe my ideas until my last day. This is who I am. I'm purely philosophical and spiritual. I'm only 32 years old and Intend to transcribe my ideas until my last day. This is who I am. View all posts by Vinícius Capucho