The labyrinth

I don't know if you remember the history of the minotaur in Greek culture. I am often confused, as many assume that I should be in hell. They are confusions. Mephistopheles lives in the underworld, and in heaven we are as in the story of the Antioquia writer Tomás Carrasquilla: "On the right hand of God the father." In the labyrinth, man walks through inscrutable corridors and corridors with no possibility of escaping from the Greek myth, as if by some guilt of love or low passions, he was condemned to die under the splint of the bull man. And in hell, as Dante Alighieri says in the Divine Comedy, those who wanted them to be there are doomed. And they probably deserve it. But there are also others, as in my case, they felt like I should go to hell. This is how for years I ended up in hell, not by my decision, but on their behalf. Of course, for those who do not understand, I was the one who got into that labyrinth that I often confuse with that of the minotaur, or that of hell where bad Christians inevitably end up purging their felonies. Of course, with repentance, everyone can end up in heaven. Raise your eyes and you will see them there.

I do not remember since when, but the only certain thing is that I ended up in unfortunate hell, and as if I had committed a vileness for years and years I was in the middle of mysterious torments, abstracted from reality, while the stooge who helped such sinister torture they wanted the angel of death to take me to hell. We always justify things. And it's not that I believe myself a saint. Like all mortals, we often insist on believing that we are the culprits, and that is when those who should be, justify. They frolic in Eden. They are the farces we are all used to. They put on their masks and hide their envies, their rages, their concealed anger, their ambitions, and like comparsas they howl from the four winds that the unfortunate man is condemned to live in ignominy. They yawn and their ambitions run out.

While I was in that hell, they came out as witches and tried to make me stay in that outburst forever. Their covert little voices and conspiracies were much like Dante's. And now that I breathe a little the air that we all breathe, I still see them thinking about how to take me back to that labyrinth. Everything is unreal there, and whoever takes advantage of whatever it is to satisfy their appetites. It is a state of mind, in which, if we are careless, we die without realizing why. It may seem that we committed scoundrels, but no. Only the infernal know it. They are the demons. They are the ones who instigate and justify their felonies to savor the ignominy, and they do not know or understand that as mortals they are condemned to live their own hell, since they will live on hatred and resentment.

They will not be happy. This is how the sweat in the labyrinth that can be in the depths of the earth or the sea, will make us believe that we are happy satisfying our irrational appetites. The mortals like the gods of the Greeks, we believe that we have everything, when in reality we are passengers in this world. Be careful not to get caught up in such terrible chaos. They are dangerous. Its shadows are of passions and banalities. Do not be confused because the paraphernalia will be waiting. They are like the Pharisees. They live on vain passions. They don't mind confusing anyone with their tongues. They are nefarious and deadly.