"I have a dragon that lives with me. No, this is not true. I have no dragon. And even if he had, he would not live with me or anybody. For the dragons, nothing more inconceivable to share its space - either with another dragon either with an ordinary person like me. Or unusual, as I imagine others should be. they are lonely, the dragons. almost as lonely as I found myself alone in the apartment after your departure. I say almost because, during that time he was with me, fed the illusion that my isolation was over forever. I say illusion because the other day, one of those mornings arid the lack of it, fortunately less frequent (drought, not the absence), I thought like this: men have the illusion of love just as they need the illusion of God. the illusion of love to stay afloat in the horrible pit of absolute solitude, the illusion of God, not to get lost in the chaos of disorder gibberish. "