My heart had swum down to the deepest depths, to the Mariana Trench, and drifted away from the waves of the North, the South, the West, and the East. It had flown up to the highest heights, up to Mount Everest, and had been carried by the winds of the north, the south, the west, and the east. To see the suffering, to be touched and to be connected. But now it was homeless, given the impossibility of subordinating itself to the hierarchical system, no matter who was the ruler. But what was possible without rule? Did not one have to govern, one to say, where to go, to get one and set the tone? Otherwise, would not everything sink into chaos? The left foot goes somewhere else than the right? Erase the left hand, what the right one had just done? Would not it be shabby and cowardly and irresponsible, even with all the strategic necessities that brought the challenges of the world with it?
