The Beginning of The End

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.

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In App Apple Books: It Was Always My Fault – And The Social Benefit’s Fault

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