I am not easily moved, but sometimes I hear words that are true, that are completely certain. Words that are a temple. Sacred words. Words that manage to crack the stone around my heart and stir something within it.
Sometimes I hear words capable of piercing what is solid, what is impenetrable. Words that, in a not-so-distant past, would have failed to water the seed that lies deep within my being, yet now connect with something inside me so powerfully that I cannot help but be moved when I hear them.
I, who am still vain, still feel ashamed to show those emotions, but I would undoubtedly rather endure that humiliation than be dead while still alive. I would rather let something seep into me than fail to feel the light that pours over all things. I would rather laugh at the cynic and his fearful gaze.
I know that those words are always a form of recognition. The recognition of a truth long forgotten.
What makes me so certain of their truth? Feeling them like an earthquake that shakes the foundations of the house I live in. What else could Truth be but that which is capable of bringing down what is rigid? What else could Truth be but that which is capable of setting me free from the prison in which I live?
Tell me, what else but Truth could carry you beyond the cynic and his wretched madness!
I want to break into a thousand pieces and scatter myself across infinity! I want every heartbeat to be mine! Every dream to be mine! To embrace them as though they truly were my own!
I want to renounce those sorrowful bars and the sorrowful gaze that hides away in the shadows of its corner.
I want to be, in Truth, free!