"Who am I?" A life that bends only at the moment of death, hope that does not erase the pain but still solves the mystery and dissolve any doubt .... " Doubt, mystery, pain ... Nicola is dead. What is left of him? The doubt, the mystery, the pain ... And profile on Facebook: how many years will survive the simulacrum of the real body which was weak expression? How many email box clogged his vain, vain invitations to nothing? We survive ourselves in the maze of the Net ... eternal. "Who am I?" Today they are one, tomorrow another? They are both together? A simulator before men and before me a despicable coward? "Words are so empty, tinkling cymbals. Who was Nicholas? I look at the photos, but I can not penetrate its mystery. And he succeeded? Die. Ends, suddenly, a night like many others, a story, our history. Nicola is dead ... "Oh, sorry ... Tonight we go a cinema? "Who really knew? We really know? What an absurd claim! Being able to understand and live our lives! We die. And the way we were obstinate to give to our actions will fade with our last breath, flatus sine voice. Was it all nonsense? Yes, everything. Nobody knew, not even ourselves. "Who am I? This is just to ask questions derision. Whoever I am, you know me, O God, I'm yours! "So, this is the only test (ex cordis nescentia) existence (due) of God
( some of the phrases in quotation marks are Dietrich Bonhoeffer )
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