Guest
How is a soul born? Sometimes life takes us through such stories after which you feel as if everything inside you has died. Desert, stones, bones. Everything joyful, everything living has burned out and is smoldering before your eyes. You waited, you wanted, you looked for happiness outside yourself, and you did not succeed. You died. Only the skeleton remained, the very essence remained. But it is cold and lifeless. You try to revive your past self; you yearn, suffer, and grieve, but in the end, you accept that that past self is no longer you. It's time to mourn and bury your past self. For good, it seems. The void sounds like the deep hunger of a black hole. You try to fill it with things, with people and events. But in the end, you guess that it is impossible to fill it from the outside, and, having fought for the past a little more, you grow humble. As soon as humility comes, as soon as you surrender to the nature of the Life-Death-Life cycles, this emptiness, which seemed to be a bla
