I’ve never been sure about how things work – not because I can’t understand the rules of the game, but because I always end up getting lost in my mind when someone reads them out loud, sets the boundaries and draws the lines. I’m not sure if it’s a matter of stubbornness, curiosity or the fact that I enjoy pushing limits a bit further, one step further from where the paved road ends and where the ground gets muddy and the grass tall, turning the balancing between uncertainties into my favourite pastime.
A few days ago I took a train to London, no urgency, no particular reasons behind it, pure impulse. Do you ever have the feeling that the air filling your lungs and your days for the past months gets thicker, so heavy on your shoulders, your routine like a joke you’ve heard one time too much? When monochrome appears to be the only landscape you see in front of your eyes? The only way out for me is to get away, rip the monotony of objects surrounding me, cover my ears to the alarm reminding me of deadlines and washing-up’s to be done and grocery shopping list to be written. For however naïve, imprudent or bullshit it may seem from the outside, gifting myself a ticket to anywhere, a concert in the fields, a hike in dusty woods or a long hot shower is the window to get out of my head, all the problems heavy on my chest seem so small, all the loud rumours singing me to sleep disappear. So I got on the train in the early morning and let my feet lead the way, my eyes see the beauty of unknown corners and contours of faces I’ll never see again, my mind wandering about their lives and my stomach enjoying a break from yoghurt and brown rice. Little does it matter where you go as long as you follow your instinct. And that, my friend, should be the flavour of the month, all year round.
I’m just a girl with ideas, and I like skating around this earth to learn how to embrace my being, listening to the stream of ideas knotted in my forehead, dancing to their rhythm, moving my feet at their own pace and accepting that when patience fades away, when things erupt, I just have to let things be and watch them flow. Taking a break from your small reality doesn’t mean you’re a mess. It’s human to lose it, to feel your plans slip away from your hands that try and keep them caged. You just need to cut a moment from this crazy ride that’s your life, sit down and enjoy the view.
So stop complaining about your monogamy with a job you hate, your thighs being too big or your wallet being too empty. Stop crying over opportunities you didn’t grab, people you didn’t kiss or your stomach being in the middle of a riot against your alcoholic diet to forget all responsibilities. Get out there and shape your days, you’re the only one in control of that and if you’re brave enough to feel the freedom of being yourself – no sentences taken by movies to give yourself the attitude girls like, no drinking kale as a meal, no squeezing in standards that don’t fit you to become another copy of Instagram celebrity to get free protein shakes and clothes. I mean being yourself. That’s the best gift you can indulge in.
Now if you may excuse me, I have a coffee to drink, an essay to write and yoghurt to buy.