the world appears to me as a continuous dualism between macro and micro. I see the movement of souls, of individual souls, meeting, leaving, merging to give life to other souls, to new life, to new encounters. I see this perpetual motion of souls, where everything is the individual, and the individual is everything. Where we believe we are something else, yet we are the universe. and then, I see the particularity of my being—Nina. my tiny, limited, brief, and fleeting existence. And I wonder if all this is possible, and how it can be possible. I feel light, floating beyond words, beyond objects, beyond superficial events. I feel like a small cloud witnessing everything, moved by the realization of the world's wholeness, by the knowledge that we are love. you are me, I am you. yet, I feel the weight—the weight of my life, the one that belongs to me, the one that, like everything else, has a purpose, but that I must carry forward, that I must push ahead. The weight of knowing that I must return to dualism, from macro to micro. every day, the same perpetual motion—macro, micro.

the only thing that brings balance between these two poles is music. It makes me feel my individuality, my singular being; I feel my heart beating, my veins pulsing, emotions rising and striking my limbs. But I also feel the whole, the absolute that unites us—the notes that bring out the spirit of the world, of our souls intertwined, all of us, beautifully in unison, finding ourselves in the music. In the body of an acoustic guitar.

I know I could never live without the sound of a voice and a guitar, without the rumble of a double bass or the power of a saxophone. and this is what makes me feel alive—not hunger, not thirst, not the whole that unites us, but the music that both denies and affirms everything. what we have been, what we are, and what we will never be.