SUPERBIA

Sometimes it's enough to just listen. And she whispers: 'You are the best. You deserve more. Everyone should bow before you.' She is ruthless and merciless. She allows us to dream of heights and successes, but almost always inexorably pulls us down into the bottomless abyss of self-love.

We listen, we pay attention to her every whisper. We succumb, becoming recluses of our own aspirations and convictions. We are proud of our achievements, our knowledge, our power. But her poison is already here, and it corrodes depths and meanings.

Each of us remembers empires that fell under the weight of their own greatness. We remember cities that turned to dust because of a ruler's ambitions. We remember dynasties that were destroyed from within by the poison of self-admiration. Our pride is like an architect who builds monuments doomed to fall as soon as possible.

But what if it's not like that? What if she is just an innocent wounded creature? What if she dreamed, loved, wanted to fly, wanted to be needed? What if for all of us she has become just an excuse for all the horror that we ourselves create? She is primordial, she is light, she is innocent. She is able to turn God's wrath against himself. We are able to understand her fragile and gentle nature.