The Internet writer is like a lonely singing sailor who hopes that in the ocean depths somebody listens.



  1. Who am I? A whisper, a tiny offshoot of the universal storm.
  2. My little interior world where everything important happens. My little nonexistent world.
  3. I don't know if I have legs or wings as I pass low over a wide range of ever-changing landscape.
  4. Where am I who guides
    Where am I who is guided
    Who am I who guides
    Who am I who is guided.

  5. I am not this one and not that one. I am somebody else.
  6. My fate pulls me by the hair.
  7. My triumphs are imaginary but deserved.
  8. The world chokes in me and I choke with the world. My skin is too tight for both of us.
  9. Thoughts move in my head like pieces on the chessboard. Somebody else moves the pieces.
  10. I mix my thoughts with my breath and a whispering halo surrounds my head.
  11. I anchor myself where the hidden meaning calls me. Meaning is hidden when perception outgrows understanding.
  12. I am sitting in a quiet library, summing up my notes, ordering my thoughts. Still, I live a thunderous drama in this very moment.
  13. I don't believe that the Big Bang occurred just to annoy me.
  14. Inhabited by a blind beast, I try my best.
  15. Insomnia: rejected by sleep and awakening, I remain suspended in a hostile void, exposed to the rampages of Time.
  16. For me, to wake up late is like being born as an adult.
  17. You have deserted yourself for a long time. Go home, go home, go home.
  18. I am naturally a good person, the contrary of a repentant sinner who is the only one deserving of absolution and grace. Sometimes I would like to be able to harm someone, but with the weaker it's too easy and with the stronger it's too hard. So, I persist in my sweet mediocrity.
  19. My ancestors, like tiny leprechauns, crowd in the folds of my brain and talk, talk, talk . . .
  20. I am not part of this world. I am a guest of this world and companion of myself.
  21. It doesn't matter what I learn, it's always me -- naked me.
  22. He extracted music with the tip of his fingers, with the bow, drummed with the palm of his hand ... I raised my head, closed my eyes and looked at the drops of sound.
  23. I place myself, such as I am, in the present, permanently. And this is my peak.
  24. You are bread, you are butter.
    And my hunger is not fulfilled.
    So what if you don't want my mouth.

  25. Like a plant in inhospitable ground, she had to thrust her roots deep to find -- me.
  26. I had a woman who loved me and I lost her. I had a man who loved me and I lost him. I had a child who loved me and I lost him. I had an animal that loved me and I lost it. Now I have a stone that loves me and I will never lose it!

    Inverted Hermit (Tarot)
    (to "E." who told me who I am)
  27. -- Who are you?
    -- The last man on earth.
    -- What do you make?
    -- Images.
    -- How?
    -- With a magic wand.
    -- What for?
    -- No reason.
    -- Where?
    -- Among thorns.

  28. My life runs too slowly, therefore it becomes a mirror in which nothing reflects but empty time.
  29. What am I -- spiritual or materialist? Both. And both in the wrong places.
  30. My eternity is now -- there are no outstanding moments in the life of a hermit.
  31. The hermit, like a sailboat, floats where the wind pushes; otherwise, stands still.
  32. Hermit, your existence is not important -- not even for you.
  33. Hermit has no container for emotions but has emotions. What can he do with them? Sow them in the air?
  34. Where is the place for the Inverted Hermit? There is no place for him in him. Only empty space embraces him with its indifference.
  35. In an old barrio of Barcelona:

    I entered this tavern full of mystery
    and I thought: "It's here, my monastery."
  36. In the exterior world are whirlpools, sharp turns, dangerous crossroads while I roam freely in my interior, silent, limitless, empty universe. Sometimes, out of the mist, landmarks appear -- aphorisms and other images. But how much truth, untruth, half truth is in all of this? For me truth is a soap bubble.
  37. Inverted Hermit, what is your name? Brother Snail -- carrying his cell on his back.


  38. When the desert enters desert -- what kind of graphic composition can they create?
  39. Better deception than void.
  40. Void is the feeling that life is running away and you have no power to hold it.
  41. Prisoner: limitless time in limited space.
  42. There is no difference between the person singing to himself and the wolf howling to the moon; both voice their solitude.
  43. Within the urban noise my solitude is internal solitude.

    In nature, the external and internal solitudes unite, envelop me and expand. I become part of the universal.

    In sleepy surroundings the external and internal solitudes unite and choke me. Unlimited space can be a prison.

  44. Zen -- poetry of the void -- versus Nietzsche's denunciation of the void as an abyss.
    I follow Nietzsche. I can endure harsh content but not void.
  45. Can we send void into void? No, because void is not malleable.
  46. When we feel void in our lives, space becomes our cage. We become container and content simultaneously and there is no buffer between us and us.
  47. We read in books of the Orient that "spirit inhabits the void"; Personally, and perhaps following Nietzsche, I perceive void rather as an absence of spirit.
  48. How to sculpt in the void? By giving it my own skin as a surface.

[Back to beginning of the chapter]

[Next to Capsules (2)]