The Man Who Is Urged to Ask

When you ask yourself so many questions, there is no harder force than man's curiosity to explain and wonder what lies behind every look and behind every word you may have said or even thought. I think we all expect everything to be black and white under the bright sun shining over this small planet; we are indeed the world who believes in night and day, dark and light, good and evil. But who ever thinks about the terminator, that thin, fictive line distinguishing the night from the day and the day from the night? We see the sun rise, we cross it, we see the sun go to sleep, and we cross it again without even thinking. And what about the horizon? The one you chased as a child, trying to reach it before it slipped further away over the hills and over the sea on a never-ending circle. Us, we pass the grey forms without staring at them and without asking them who or what they are. For they do not exist. And because of this we should not ask ourselves why our 'ghosts' do not go to sleep for they have already gone asleep and we simply feel fictive lines blurring the shape of things.