Liberation after Delusion

I would like to tell a story to myself, and maybe to others, about a man whose vastness I have not been able to cover from my vantage point. It is a story about fear, beauty, loneliness, a pleasant smile, the moon, a split, on the other hand, an unusual combination of parts, depth, rarity, conflict, a dream, childhood - it is about a boy. Once, in the moment of the chaos, I called the boy a computer, a broken computer. Have I made a mistake?
After a while, I realised that it was not for me to decide whether the computer was faulty or not. As time passed, one thing remained the same in my thinking, although it changed its form - the computer was unique, a thing beyond my comprehension, fascinating, eye-catching, an art, and a twofold, and in that, a colourful creation. The moon I was describing is unique, so to dare to say that "the computer is broken" was a pain and a false statement, because it is not in my brain structure to understand the boy.

Fear

There was fear in his eyes, a teary-eyed fear. That fear is the greatest fear of all - misunderstanding. Misunderstanding comes from the constant tug-of-war between feelings and right behaviour, between expectations and life events, between sadness and anger, the constant cognitive dissonance between apparent reality and belief. Life events have dilated the pupils and do not allow the slightest tenderness. Fragile. What a fear to live clutching one's head in a bubble of mercury and not forgetting, still believing that love is somewhere.

I won't tell the story anymore. This story, like any other, is one-sided and not everyone needs to be reminded of or know the motives behind it, so it is time for me to make a point here. I loved the boy very much. I carry that love with me now. I will not show this nature love until it has recovered and is ready to embrace, to love, to care, to sacrifice.

XXXX.03.03

Important date. Today that boy turned out to be a figment of my imagination as described above, or rather a description of the boy as he saw himself, and I took over that image. The boy is emotionally blind. He does not even try to offend. There is no room for hatred here, not so much any more. The boy will live on his own and I don't want to have a common bond with him - 'because there is only pain between us'.
Leaving aside the nuances that begin with the 'who, how and why', the bottom line is that people must be held accountable for their hurtful actions, even if those actions seem normal and standard to them. The interior of the moral person must be based on truth, beauty and justice. This is the goal.

I allow myself to believe that morality is interpreted differently. Some may not give it much importance, others may ignore it altogether and confuse its meaning, others may manipulate the concept, and some may look for the manifestations of morality in a lifelong journey, take the middle path and never let the limits of thinking about justice get in the way. Here, the limitations only apply to actions that are unacceptable from experience, from knowledge or from common sense, such as theft or murder. Each point has its own truth. A truth in which it is important not to harm oneself, not to harm others, and to cultivate a bright mind for the sake of a sense of oneness with the cosmos.