There is a world in wich you think you exist as real. There is a world where the stories are more important than the act of life and creation. As I see it, we are all apart of it. More interested in the projection of the self than by anything else. We build our own scenario, stick to the canevas, and deeply believe that there is life as it suppose to be. Drama, comedy, romance, action... We all look for partners to fullfill the roles that need to be play. And we think. We studied and worked hard to find out the truth, our own and ineluctable thruth. We then build a pattern of believes, a huge and complex web that often become the architecture of who we are. Our attempt to reach the goal, in the quest of understanding the ultimate "why", brings us closer to closure than opening, whatever you may think about it. The fact is that there is not an ounce of an answer in the act of trying. Trying to let go, trying to figure out the best way to be, trying to be happy, changing this and that, replacing old part for new ones. That's all bulshitt in the end. Well, as long as we watch our own movies and feed us with importance, we don't own our Selves, our Acts, or even our thoughts. Not a single one. No liberty, no fate, no plan : there is nothing but  a pulsion of life. Then another space shows, we live just as a spectator of the creation, a curious wonderer of nature, world, human and the I as well, a starting point that is more relevant to be connected to the "universal laws". When we finally get transparent, empty as before the first spark of creation, there is maybe a place, a small hole to reach the wholeness, and why not the holiness. We stop trying, stop worrying, stop complaining and start observing from outside, enchanted, active while non-reactive. Then, "universe*" can reach us, take us, teach us as it is, full knowledge of our innocence. Innocence of being there, as not responsible. Because ultimately, we are just another breath of creation, that come and go. So during the moment of counsciousness that gave us this form and matter, I rather breath in tune, equal quality of being than God, and let the inestimable peace reach me. But I know, as conditionned man, that i will go back in my theatre, reaching for perfection. Obsessed by the images i believed, constraining walls surrounding me. But I wish to remember, from time to time, the silent potential of transparence. As we may think, i will not ask for you to understand or believe that, this is just another story, one more, to get trapped into ... Sincerely, Lp (*