I spent Sunday with my good friend Aurora. We talked a lot. We talked about change, change and growth of character, a shift of a view point, of the opportunity to see the world through eyes of a three-year old, again.
She says how easy is for her to pack up and leave. Further more, she needs to do it. When she was twenty she left to Egypt, after it, she came to Malta, made a little break at London. For, she being a creature of the sea, had to come back to the island. The tickling feeling that starts in the stomach, slowly but surly reaching the throat, until it starts chocking her informs her that is time to change, to move. And she’s going to, in September.
I could totally relate to what she was on about. Once you move, start your life from a suitcase, buy again your first spoon and fork, make friends, you can do it all over again, countless times. And it becomes easier each time around.
That chocking feeling is giving me two more minutes until I slip into seven minutes coma. In other words, I’m feeling restless.
I do not know whether I made myself hope, or just needed to put an artificial light at the end of my tunnel. Made up urge in hopes to save me. But I strongly believe that South America has an answer for me. While not knowing what the question is exactly.
Setting off into unknown makes you taste the freedom, by each step discovering the strengths and balls one didn’t even dream of heaving. Aurora said how she doesn’t recognizes herself from the first time she had lipped. I want to come to that conclusion.
Many people are her, live that way. Maybe I am a gypsy too. Maybe I have to get lost in order to find myself. Going in search of who I am and for solitude, where I can write and write and write. Search for my Utopia, my Nirvana.
If this makes sense to you, or you pity me, do donate few euros so I can buy a ticket :)
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