When I was younger I used to be a very curious child. I was interested in everthing: from Egiptians to the Milky Way. A book about rabbits, a encyclopedia about ants (ants used to fascinating me so much) or a book about magic (from anthropological perspective) were presents I asked for in birthdays. Then it came school years. The lessons were so boring I hid a book under my desk to read while I was prettending to look at my tasks. (Which usually I didn’t do). After, asking the teacher was not cool in highschool. Whenever interesting questions were made (not the typicall “Can you explain that again because I didn’t get it”), specially in the Phylosophy class, bullers would boo the impudent. So I lost my ability (partiallly, I expect) of asking questions… Now, I want to think about things you cannot answer, things that would always be a mistery like who am I? why am I here? what is the point of existance? and such. Do you have any unaswered question?
Can you imagine a new colour?
Can you remember how a dream starts?
How do born-blind persons portray other people in their mind?
Do cells have a counscience? Are we made from thousands of millions of other beings?