Testament of a Philosopher Minimalist (First Scriptwriting)

After all this walking, traveling, learning, exploring, making mistakes, struggling, I am now at the point that I am forced to stop. But looking at the past I can only notice that I am back at the beginning.
Life is a circle, a new circle is going to open, and the old one is going to close.
The one in which I have constantly struggled to affirm myself, accumulating, having more and more and more. Just seeing in front of me a new goal to be achieved, which would have made increase my ego.

And now I’ve realized that by struggling every day to assert my will, to affirm myself, it did not make sense.

Affirmation of richness, affirmation of materialism for affirming themselves.
But the term affirm themselves, is it not a fight against others? A fight for their own supremacy?
And more I have accumulated, more I wanted to have, until I started to wonder for who I was accumulating. For me? For my supremacy?
And why do I keep this sort of struggle in defense of my supremacy?
Who has ever taught this to me?
Are we born with this idea? Is it the human nature that makes us want more and more? Maybe is some brain genetic deformation?

But now I got to the point that everything I’ve accumulated, it does not belong to me.
We are born naked and we leave the world naked.
So, what is the unbridled pursuit having to earn? Perhaps it is our need to have a kind of security, protecting ourselves from the outside world. Or from the others?

And what is possession? Is it maybe the accumulation with the desire to own, touch, feeling with the fingers what is our?
But until when? Until death will tear to life, to possession, to what was ours?
And then? At the end everything we owned will go to someone else.

Perhaps the meaning of possession is to “leave” to someone something of ourselves.

And me? What can I give?

I’m slowly saying goodbye to everything that has been part of my past, of my life, of my existence until now. I’m seconding it. I’m letting go everything that chained me to my possessions by throwing everything away.

What really belongs to me is closed strongly in this hand, in this little key.
All that really I own is preserved in this single tiny chip.
Megabytes, data, memory.
In this little virtual memory are enclosed all my possessions.
A chain of thousands pulses composed of the number 1 and 0, which are simple interconnections between a YES and a NO.
But this YES and NO wrote the data, wrote the story, wrote this story, which has marked this life.
A life of NO, I do not want it, and a life of Yes, I want it.

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