It is said that the philosopher Friedrich Nietzsche was strolling through Turin in 1889 when he saw a horse being brutally whipped. He bent down and embraced it tightly, as if embracing the last vestige of mercy in the world. From that moment, Nietzsche was no longer the same. He fell into a profound silence, as if language had failed him. Even the philosopher of power could no longer express the cruelty he had witnessed. A few days later, he was taken to a mental asylum where he spent his final days. Nietzsche did not truly die in 1900; he died the moment he embraced the horse. What remained was a breathing body; he no longer wrote, no longer cried out, no longer resisted. He himself had become a question without an answer, a cry without a voice, a philosophy without a philosopher.🙏❤️