When you get out of the environment that you somehow managed to understand, confusion can easily set in. The boundaries are no longer clear, nor are the rules by which everything is structured. Many become possible, even if not all of them are desirable. In a new spatial format, new forms are possible, and the message finds new ways to reach you. Even when the paths are not very clear, even when the hand, with a questioning gesture, seems to hesitate, it is imperative to move forward. No matter how little, even if sometimes a step forward is followed by a few steps back, you have to move. You feel bound by the rules, the conventions encompass you like so many more or less magical circles, it's hard for you to recognize the goal you are aiming for, or if there is one, you rely on too weak things, almost only hopes and yet .. you move. This is the dance of life, the constant wandering between deceptive landmarks in search of a fragile balance, which you lose as soon as you touch it just to look for it again. Nobody guarantees you anything, no matter where you end up, not even that you will ever get anywhere. That you will stop, that you will rest. And yet it seems that this is what you need most, a moment of rest.
But every moment is an eternity. And peace is not for this world. Some people think that Beauty belongs to this world. It's very possible. And yet, why are we so caught up in this pursuit of beauty? Why, no matter how hard we try, can't we seize it? Why does everything we touch in our search immediately turns into a ruin, vaguely resembling the thing we set out to find? Is Beauty of this world? Or is it just a memory that drives the wheel of the one who, with difficulty, began to make?
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