Enduring

Invisible, a body, the sun.
Are you coming to me? “Gray” is approaching. An anchor and rise in uneven steps.

The totality escapes. With a sigh, everything changes.
A glance and I lose myself in your universe.
You will know why.

It returns and knocks, promiscuous in sun. At night the same.
It rains and that place we seek makes no sense.
Violet sun, azure in your soul.
The core slumbers, the roar of your skin…

Indefinite fractals surround us. It’s a deception, it is coming again. (Do you understand? It’s the signal) Then the world eNdUrInG… the linearity that doesn’t exist, in vain.

Footnote (2026):

This text was written when I was 20 years old. Upon re-reading it today, with the perspective that time and systems logic provide, I note that the “chaos” I described is still there, but my relationship with it has changed drastically.

At 20, the lack of linearity felt like an execution error, a critical bug that generated profound dissociation. It was as if my user interface had desynchronized from the backend of reality.

Today I understand that noise under the concept of entropy. At that age, disorder seemed a threat of dissolution. Today I accept that chaos is not the absence of rules, but the presence of complex rules we have not yet finished comprehending.

In that stage of life, the glitch feels persistent, like a structural failure without solution. But as I grow, I realize that the system wasn’t broken; we just didn’t have all the inputs. It’s exactly like an Artificial Intelligence hallucinating: when the model lacks information or context, it fills in the blanks by inventing distortions or fears. My youthful anxiety wasn’t a world error, but a hallucination due to lack of data.

I no longer feel like I am simply eNdUrInG a broken system. Now I understand that, if we can extrapolate those points we don’t see today, the network eventually makes sense.

The system is the same; I’ve just learned to read the logs better and expand my context window.

Automated translation.