There’s a weird light shed on absence,
A sort of intriguing masochism moving your days in this constant crave for finding yourself, your place in the world, a meaning to your days.
But what if this morbid hunger was nothing but a mere distraction from the bigger picture, from real things you miss along the way, those you don’t weigh, stares and sentences let slip in time like landscapes outside the train window?
Few are the things I can state with confidence, but one of those is that letting patterns fade away and dedicating your time cultivating this passion for magnifying stupidly complicated circumstances, losing the thread of your dreams before falling asleep because too focused on drawing a meaning to every little thing, well, it isn’t worth the hours spent in talks blended with glasses of wine that grow simple things into complexities – like repeating a word that always sounded so natural until it starts to feel difficult and makes you question the way it’s spelled.
What I’m trying to say is that instead of playing this eternal treasure hunt baptized under the name of balance, we should allow ourselves the freedom to lose it, this balance, and let us swinging between impulsive decisions and scratches on skin when we push ourselves further than the fence we’ve been building and polishing for years, to keep creatures away and delimiting the curiosity burning in your eyes when wandering what’d happen if, for a moment only, you pushed yourself further.
So go, indulge in the freedom of losing your center of gravity. keeping your ideas on a leash sure isn’t the way to feed them.