soon_this_space_will_be_too_small raze "this is a story about my father. my father is a very philosophical man. he always has an idea going around and around and around in his mind. and each idea that he has, its orbit takes several years to go around. when he's really gone all the way through, then he has a new idea. and these days he has a new idea. his idea is that when we are conceived, we appear in our mother's womb like a little tiny light suspended in an immense space, and there's no sound. it's completely dark, and time doesn't seem to exist. it's like an ocean of darkness. then, we're growing. and as we grow, slowly we begin to feel things, touch things, and touch the walls of our world. we begin to hear sounds and feel shocks that come to us from the outside. and as we get bigger and bigger, the distance between ourselves and that other outside world becomes smaller and smaller. and this world that we are inside of, which seemed so huge in the beginning and so infinitely welcoming, has become very uncomfortable. and we are obliged to be born. my father says birth is so chaotic and violent that he's sure at the moment of birth we're all thinking, 'this is it. this is death. this is the end of my life.' and then we're born, and it's such a surprise. because it's just the beginning. in the beginning we're very small. the world seems infinitely big, and time seems infinitely long. we keep on growing. we learn how to use our senses. and we learn how to touch one more time the contours of the world that we're in. sometimes, mixed in with the sounds and sensations of this world, we hear sounds and feel shocks that come from yet another world. and that other world follows us our whole lives long, as if something is happening just on the other side of a very, very thin wall. then, at the end of our lives, we're obliged to die. and at that point, my father says we think we're really smart, and this time we know for sure that this is death, and this is the end. because everybody knows that. but my father thinks that's not the end either. it's just the beginning of something else." — lhasa de sela (1972-2010) 220427 what's it to you? who go blather from