I don’t know how to start this blog, maybe because it is the last one and I have the feeling that what I write is not going to do justice to all the sensations and images that I have been collecting in these 6 months. Maybe it’s because my thinking works with images, like that of dreams.
But this dream begins its way towards its vigil and it is accompanied by motorcycle rides singing loudly with Pagona, cafes and playing draughts with Sofia, nights on the balcony with Adriano trying to compose the puzzle of existence or the why, and the bakery skills of Abi.
This dream, this vigil go hand in hand, they know where, but they don’t want to tell me. And I still don’t know what to put in my last blog, then I sigh, (aaaaiii) sigh for the feeling to settle down, while this present transforms and changes the scene.
Once again finish or start again, get used to the everyday, walk with my boots instead of flip-flops, but finally walk. With my soul full and empty at the same time, with doubt and certainty accompanying an endless number of moments that change each time I visualize or share them.
It’s not easy to go back, just as it’s not easy to leave, but I’d rather catch the wave than stay on shore. I prefer chaotic movement to secure stillness, I prefer the uncertainty of what is to come, I prefer it even if it is a little short.
And if sometimes that stinging becomes bigger than usual, I like to get into my shelter, walk through the sensations found, smile at the past and imagine that every place where I have lived opens a hole in space time and creates another dimension where I have not gone.
But well, I don’t want to get nostalgic before the time or give more importance to it than it has, after all the greatest feeling is that of gratitude towards life, although I still desire the gift of ubiquity.