We sense.
As the streets and the tears and the lessons go by and the world becomes smaller in the face of experience, we learn, we sense. Or so we did.
There are several things to sense, to experience, to search. Most of these sensations are noble, they are inside, they are at our reach, ready to be sought. We seek wrong.
As I plunder through the episodes of my life, I can't help but noticing that, while I'm after the understanding of my very self, my fellow hominids are after the essence of drunkard beasts, dancing around their own ignorance and joy, translated in evil. The soundtrack of mediocre lives. And as the monkeys' creations prance in the face of the cheering World, I can't help but wonder, have we ever sought?
