Seven Souls (Paperback or Softback)

Life had carved out a strange sequence of situations for Mario, preparing him with coincidences. Fortunately, he managed to distinguish them and perceive what would follow next.
Some people's goal may ultimately be the success of their inner enlightenment, a higher consciousness characterized by mental peace and indifference to everything perishable in this world.
Perfection should not be part of our everyday lives. Perhaps we should eliminate the need to make anything perfect. After all, the desire for perfection is an internal compulsion externalized in actions because we cannot cure it.
Indeed, making mistakes along the way was acceptable, but repeating them meant he had not decoded something correctly.
He had not learned something. And the margins for continuous repetition of mistakes for him had narrowed dramatically.
It is always later than we think. Time is an invisible illusion.
The body only perceives the passage of time when it surrenders to its decay, powerless to resist.

VΙΙΙ THE JOURNEY
After all, there is an apparent collective turmoil in human minds. Information falsified over time by various whistleblowers, to be transmitted millennia now, deliberately conceals facts that result in the human race being unable to find its actual sub-stance. This information is directly related to man's presence and stay on earth.
Unfortunately, there are many well-wishers. There is a long list of culprits who, for their gain, fraudulently misinform continuously using the most potent weapon available in their quiver: fear.
They are using fear to hide the truth, a truth they know will destroy their work if made public untainted.
Somehow, it moves around and surrounds us, and we have lost the right to cause what we want to happen to us. It is a profound irrationality with a direction line where some wish. We lost the right to choose, not just any choice but the one to which our infallible instincts lead us.
If we knew how to cultivate our mindfulness, we could dream without being slaves to our dreams.
Unfortunately, there are only two options: either you will be like a surrendered leaf in the vital flow of the river to the sea and whatever happens, or you will forcefully follow a path against its current in the hope that at some point, you will find yourself next to the source. Both options have a price; after all, which option doesn't?
The difference is essential. In the first case, you do not de-fine the result. In the second, the fullness you feel is incompa-rable if you succeed. You are allowed to dream, to embrace hope, and to say fearlessly, "I define my life!"
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He was resting his left hand on the frame of the double-glazed balcony door. He was leaning his sleep-less body against the door, which consented to the unfolding of a natural disaster before him, creaking loudly. Most of the lightning quickly disappeared, swallowed up by the sea. The mind was traveling like a migratory bird chased by the snap. With his face almost stuck to the glass, he forced his hot breath to fog it. It was a blur that would suddenly disappear in the next few seconds, mimicking how it appeared, only to present itself repeatedly with each subsequent exhalation.
On the large white wall of the living room, the flashes out-lined a dark silhouette with designer precision. Shadows that gave you the impression that a speechless giant was hiding in the space, huddled, silently watching the autumn storm. In turn, the storm added its presence to the dark canvas with noise without any inhibition. Its thick drops, having a passionate re-lationship with the wind, left it to carry them everywhere. In their short passage from life, they wished mutely to give the soil burned by the hot summer sun the rebirth of green hope.
There was no horizon but black shadows that, when the lightning, illuminated them just enough for the eyes to distin-guish what they hid...