I am a black man in an abandoned warehouse, I am tied to a chair and I can’t move.

I have a hood over my head and I’m waiting for my torturer to return. He is letting me recover.

Every time he comes he hits me, then proceeds to cut one of my fingers. The pain is unbearable but the horror and expectation of his return are even worst.

I see myself without legs, crawling on the floor using my arms, I only have a couple of fingers left. At some point my arms end at the elbows and I have only one eye. Then I die, I live all possible deaths.

I “wake up” and I am in Hell. There are thousands of people living every possible death, I am one of the few who can roam free.

I see an open space with praying crowds. There is an endless row of hooded people with their hands tied behind their backs. One of them wears the hood I used to wear. When I try to talk to him, a being approaches and tries to intimidate me, but there is no fear in me because I have lived all the fear. He threatens to punish me, but I have also exhausted the pain. He is powerless before me, that's why I am one of the few who can wander around.

I have incarnated all suffering in the world, I remember all dismemberments and all tortures. I am every victim and every executioner.

I see myself as a wealthy man. I punish my slaves and make them suffer. I have a son too, I hit him and see in his eyes how he is being transformed, becoming cold and ruthless like me. I am my father, I am that child. I understand the source of inhumanity and all wars, the eternal chain of resentment, hate and sadist revanche.

So much needless suffering, an ocean of endless sorrow.