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Sometimes we make mistakes, sometimes mistakes make us, there is no difference.
Should we be forgiven if our actions are truly regreted by our deepest selves?

Los que vuelan

Hoy una polilla y yo nos topamos, me hizo sentir el peso de su cuerpo sobre mi dedo, y sentí que vivía, afuera llovía, y sentí la necesidad de liberarla pero me contuve, si sus alas se mojaban seguro moriría, luego voló y no la vi más, no se si aletea aún o ha parado.

Se que la vida termina y la energía es perpetua, pero yo no soy ni lo uno ni lo otro, soy concepto, que pasa cuando decida volar?

Where is the future?

Dettachment, does it bring happiness? Peace?
Peace seems like the logical outcome for absolute dettachment, but is that even possible? I hope so.

What about love, and intimacy? Are they profound truths? Or are they just fear of solitude?

Solitude, is it absolute as I believe it is? Is it caused by individuation? If not, what causes it? Is it just me?

Am I the issue? Am I the one who bought the solitaire image?

Is there really an Infinite universe? Or what we can perceive and conceive the limit of it all?