When the Illusion Ends

Extract from “Thoughts of a Non-Psychopath”

This reflection functions as a sequel to Talents.

The loss of illusion is not sudden; it is a delayed disillusionment, the product of a long-sustained idealization of the goal. In my case, writing.

I have had many disillusionments. I wish I hadn’t, but I am human. And even when I believed myself free of them, talent—or rather, the lack of it—follows you like a long shadow that time cannot dissolve. It returns in silences, in inevitable comparisons, in attempts that fall short.

I won’t speak of failure yet. It is a deep subject, but it is enough to say that life is built upon failure. Everything—from the most intimate to the most visible—rises with that possibility always lurking. Failure is not an accident; it is part of the mechanism.

And yet, something survives: these thoughts I store in my memory and never express openly are released when I write. There, and only there, do I feel truly free. Not because writing saves me, but because I know the illusion does not last forever—only long enough to let me spread my wings.

Then I think: this is the illusion of choice. Because in the end, I did not choose this… it was simply all that remained. There was no alternative path.

The illusion is born from believing we choose our vocation, but the truth is that more often we merely cling to what hurts us least. And what hurts least, sometimes, ends up destroying us as well…

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