Author Description

This book is made of notes and digressions, not just intending to rub the reader with the perpetual error of the human fate, but as a warning that we stand on the verge of rationality and a few steps further in the current direction, and despite the constant forewarnings of illustrious minds, we'll fall into the abyss of irrationality. These notes, aphorisms or long diatribes (according to the patience of the reader), apart from their admonitory nature, include a considerable part of personal relief. Also, I confess, they try to perpetuate the spirit of those pessimistic thinkers that according to mood, or luck, have walked into my reading's path. This book avoids discursive modalities in rattle prose, this book wants to remind the reader that he carries, from boyhood, a skull inside, this book is written to calm down my obsessions, my angry moods, my hostility against the selfish citizens that are around me.