The Antagonist

He flew blinded when vision was required. Meanwhile, he wanted obsessively, without any longing for transcendence, and lost in his own nest he grew enraged with anger. Stubborn besides, he clumsily persisted in not listening. And as time passed, more than a great struggle began. His word was confused, noisy, and blurred. Its results were partial, for his incoherence was frequent, and far from appealing. He had stopped being the protagonist of his own life, for not understanding what he needed to. He felt something was wrong, and at the same time, things were going well. The paradox persisted, and he carried on not knowing what to do. What he created did not convince him; something was missing, ungenerated. But when he tried to silence himself, a process was set in motion. Suddenly everything began to crumble, because something was listening within his vision. Nothing was the same anymore. A new dynamic emerged, like a lotus flower. A coherent movement, disguised as entropy.

That was the guide of change, a tempestuous shipwreck announcing courage. Then, freedom. For love is bound to arrive. And so it was that the antagonist of his life little by little stopped agonizing, to become the agonist of his own path. Now an alchemist disciple, the protagonist of his own film, he began to breathe. Yet he must now contemplate his own erratic ways, for perfection is only that effect more loving than flawed, a beautiful duality to be balanced. Flying low is his humble way of walking, though at times he must take off. He has noticed something within him trying to be tamed, and his presence already feels omnidirectional. It seems his gratitude generates a kind of sound wave, something that emanates and will expand. Perhaps, at some point, there will be no more signal. It will be then that his image fades out, toward the digital end. A game finished. Who knows. Who will know. A story of antagonism that will be kept — and will probably erase itself all the same.