"The hell are we"

Yes, I am platonic, living in a cave, deceived by the images projected in the wall but knowing that there is something else behind them...The real thing.
So, being fully aware of this detachment from reality, I resist to pack and move to the land of unfulfilled promises.
It took me a while to find the cord connecting me to the source of life. The very same it unites us to our mother and is cut as soon as we are born, leaving us out there lonely and lost.
And we struggle to fit, to be completed with an outside element that might not be found in a lifetime. We search for knowledge, for love, for empathy, for understanding and justice while we accumulate memories, desires and rancour.
We choose to question and fight or we let our souls to be marked with the sing of obedience.
This world outside the cave is not ready to let go. It's not ready to let me be because everywhere in here there is always a price to pay.
It's difficult to want so bad to be close only to get rejected by the imaginary borders we trace in the way, establishing identities that become unquenchable differences that set us apart.
it's damn frustrating to find beings that don't want to comprehend, that choose blindness and darkness in an age of light.
It's challenging to look behind the mask of everything we take for granted, to ask God why, to dedicate a life to solve the formula that explains it all, to have such a little mind that only allows me to understand a small portion of this space lost in an immense universe that we call home, to understand me and the origin of all the questions, to long for permanence in an existence of change and movement.
It's a personal option to be what I want to be. To sit here and look at you, and wait if I want to wait and cry when I get hurt. It's such a privilege to share this humanity, this essence that chains our destiny in a unique way, even when we defy it and oppose it.
It might be always an element of truth. A particle that the original explosion forgot and from which we all were born.
It might be always a crazy Dr Frankenstein that looking for perfection and improvement tries to eradicate the pain and steal the fire from the Gods without fatal consequences.
It might be someone running free form the chains imposed on them no by God but by narratives that only custom and habit made of them universal truths.
It might be a truth out there that does not take us to wait for heaven, because, as Sartre said, the Hell are we.