Then, out of sadness and sordid anger, like whirling water running down the sewer, I felt dragged to dive into my inner self, in need of my own answers. An introspection (or hallucination) in which I realized I can’t see anybody truly because my own flaws. Add to this distortion the fears of the others, and the glass through which we look at each other becomes opaque, inscrutable.
May only love without fear burn through all these layers of opacity to see each other’s naked souls? Fears shouldn’t be there to scare you. They should be there to let you know that something is worth it. To tell your heart that the fear of pain is worse than the pain itself. To confirm you that nobody has ever suffered when they go in search of their dreams, because the search, not the dream, is your encounter with eternity.
But people, most people, do not really want freedom, because it involves responsibility, and most people are frightened of responsibility. They are cowards, and cowards make the best torturers, as they understand fear. Most adults have resigned themselves to failure.
Someone I love left me with a question without answers. I found some by myself:
I’ll hurt you. You’ll hurt me. Tomorrow I shall contradict myself. You shall contradict yourself. But this is the very condition of existence, and the one way we have of asserting our liberty, the real freedom one does not find as a member of society.
It’s the questions we can’t answer that teach us the most.
In the “Diula” language in Mali, the term « dugutigui » (chief of the village), literally translated, means: «owner of the village»; «dugu» means village and «tigui», owner. Probably the term is the result of the contraction of «dugu kuntigui» (literally: chief of the village).