Because the real luxury of nowadays is keeping anonymous.
Nothing special happened.
The sun came up at the expected time. I woke up 4h, then 2h, then half an hour before the alarm rang. I had a very serious talk with myself before trying to fall asleep but then couldn’t shut it down. The voice had amplified against my will. Yes, I was going through a lot inside, like most of the times when you ask what’s wrong and I snap out of it, stumble upon the first detail and repress the memory with the properly conceived new story. Le discours impromptu.
No matter how much of a tough person we think we are, trauma always leaves a mark. An open wound or a scar, if we cast it away properly. But most of the times, it just follows us home, watches us over as we buy tomatoes and it changes our way of seeing things. It alters life. And by the gathering of these tiny – we might even think insignificant – scars we tend to recreate the secret road map of our personal history, the ultimate diagram of the ‘burden’ we get to carry around in life.
New wounds are horribly painful. But it’s safe to say they’re there for a reason – they teach you something to avoid in the future. I wish it were so simple. Unfortunately, some things you have to keep learning over and over again.
Pain. You don’t fight it. As they say: “The best way out is always through”. Because the truth is, you can’t outrun it. And life always makes more. Maybe that’s one purpose, to give you an impulse. You will have to get a little messed up to be able to push forward and move, though.
I’ll go to sleep without taking myself so seriously tonight.
Afterall, the sun set at the expected time.
Nothing special happened today.
Let it pour.
This is one of my favorite pics in my Instagram gallery. The story behind this picture is placed in Tallinn. Long wet autumn days kept me inside most of the times. I did not complain,though, I always had great company. I learned to play poker, cook, bake, even practiced some Spanish and basic Czech, Slovakian. I asked Miguel to take a picture of me being melancholic close to the window, once I saw the setting as perfect. I get a warm feeling when I remember those days.