Of sylvan beings

The fiery engine inside me longs for something. It's a very unconscious desire, perhaps the deepest one, the most influential one. I try tasting it, going the deepest I have the breath for, in order to come with a name for it, but it's quick enough to avoid my primitive techniques. Whenever I try capturing it, it feels like it's vanished like a thin smoke becoming one with the air, with the entire purpose of puzzling me.

When I'm deep enough, I can recognize it simply as a quest to get to the Prime Answer, The Master Word, a Holy Grail that unlocks the secret of everything, but every time I try talking about it sounds so, so silly. There's this thing about names, sometimes they are simple paliatives based on rumors and guessed glimpses, but not a precise report; therefore something incomplete. Maybe it's impossible for the human mind to fully see it, maybe the answer is too deep for our breathing to bear.

Perhaps getting to it is a matter of Charging knowledge. Every discovery I make, every Spice I taste, every Prime Undertone backing every Mindscape I experience seem to be a shard of the whole and I taste a little of it, and, here it goes the silliness again... I feel closer to the universe, I feel connected to it, so to say. It can become an addiction, an obsession to get closer to it.

It's one of those things that are too big and omnipresent that can't be shown directly, but rather perceived as a guest undercurrent of other messages. It's always there when my enthusiasm is fired up, there's always the quickest glimpse of it around, like a figure hidding in the crowd. It's everywhere. It's the magic behind the hazel eyes or the opal gemstones. It's in words of ancient languages that arouse mystic art, it's in scientific words that arouse the thirst for knowledge. It's in the very decisive moments of change, of crossing the line, of opening the door, of the brief bliss of satisfaction of our otherwise unquenched curiosity. It's mysterious, enchanting, spooky, intense. It finds itself guiding the beauty of a charming lotus and the morbidness after the heartwrenching tragedy. Every atom of it is a strangelet creating a heavenly nebulae that is too big for the human perceptions to understand directly.

The omni element that makes the shards fit together seems to be not the objective of my personal quest, but it seem to be seeded deep into every human heart and their own subjective desires. Maybe this is a spiritual thirst. Maybe this is what makes us long to create gods, or what made mankind embark so passionately in this amazing scientific race. We all want answers. Deep inside we all have the curiosity and interest to see the nuclear origin of everything. It's in religion, it's in science, it's in art. It could simply be the experience of human life.

Maybe it's impossible for me to one day truly name this idea. So maybe I should enjoy the chase itself, rather than catching my prize, after all it's always out of range. Unlike other motifs that can be captured, tamed, harvested, mined one time or another, this one can't, as it's irrevocably distant, like the stars. Maybe that's the fun of life, chasing answers and finding ourselves content with the golden treasures at hand, though always having the human fire that longs to touch every one of the shining lights in the sky.