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“I thought that childhood went away softly, or that it was lost with a rip, at the moment when the veil is torn and you see another reality. Instead it is neither one nor the other. Childhood goes away in shreds, like a mosaic that flakes under your eyes. Below, in fragments, appears the adult being in its darkest part, from which we protect ourselves, like children who puts the blanket upon their faces, for fear of the ogre, there are the things you do not want to see, until when you can no longer deny them. And perhaps this denial is a part of wanting to believe in a life after death, the last piece of childhood that some of us guard, for thinking that every goodbye, after all, is not forever.” — Luigina Sgarro
I thought that childhood went away softly, or that it was lost with a rip, at the moment when the veil is torn and you see another reality.
Instead it is neither one nor the other. Childhood goes away in shreds, like a mosaic that flakes under your eyes. Below, in fragments, appears the adult being in its darkest part, from which we protect ourselves, like children who puts the blanket upon their faces, for fear of the ogre, there are the things you do not want to see, until when you can no longer deny them.
And perhaps this denial is a part of wanting to believe in a life after death, the last piece of childhood that some of us guard, for thinking that every goodbye, after all, is not forever.