It's a curious phenomenon to lose your mind. You can use verbs like losing, not being, giving... I like to steal, they robbed me of the reason. It is more correct, without euphemisms, because reason itself is not lost without course. Someone takes something away from you. The action has a clear subject. It is therefore a curious phenomenon, that of stealing reason.

I remember that in my time as a student, with a classmate that I now have an intimate friend, we wrote on a paper the reasons that they steal from each other. One and empty, one, two and one, three. Next to the name, we wrote the victories with penciled scripts, the reason at the height of the goals and the baskets, as a game to make no mistake in the area that each one has to defend. When you're being robbed of the reason, you have to go through grief, a process of assimilation. At least I have to pass it. The word “grief” seems exaggerated, but it does. Because until then you have fueled your opinion from different sources of knowledge, from gaztetxe meetings, from debates with yours, from books of intellectuals you purchased at the Durango Fair, from that ten that you brought out in a subject from the center, from which your referent once said… Accumulate legitimities of reason inside. Brick to brick stitches all the ideas and keeps inside a set of premises that exalts your identity. You let yourself be hibernated and in the discussions that will come, all that you have cost and built before is ejected. The more it is built, the closer the reason will be.

But that interior makes me grow up when I'm stealing my reason. In a few seconds, I feel a 7.5 earthquake on the Richter scale, and all the ideas that were in the hibernation, all the arguments that were built from brick to brick are all scratching me. The cracks rise, the columns balance me and I'm almost not standing. I'm conscious: Right now, I have more cracks than the system. The fundamentals of reason collapse, I get a knock down. So I have to start the grief, the process of accepting the loss of what's stolen from me.

It doesn't have to, but it's often hard. I'm going to start building it since I've been deconstructed in the background. And in the paradox of what I can gain from a loss, I've started to think if I don't become a little richer than what I am every time I get stolen.