Like a leaf from a cold wind bizarre, hostile and mocking, I wander in search of what may not exist . A light, perhaps pale in the darkness, I can not see, but which stubbornly I continue to look for, that there feast, even if every day new discoveries seem to reveal the folly of my intent, even if hope seems like a useless toy, good only to entertain in moments of boredom and despair. Despite everything, I still look, new Columbus, in search of his Indies, and like him, sometimes I end up in the net of deceit woven by the new continents. Derided and mocked by a crew that has replaced the dreams and the harsh reality of tangible things, cloaked in the illusion that things are eternal, while the only thing really able to overcome the insurmountable barriers of time is the subject of my research, the purpose, destination, the end of a trip of a lifetime, with no map, chasing a dream that may not exist, or that maybe I do not deserve. My heart, my soul and every cell of my body and prosthesis are devoted to the ultimate cause, knowing that if not enough, the research itself would be worth the sacrifice. Everything else is apparent life, but life.
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