But it was important to start. A story whose end, only I know, and I've known it for many many years now.
I can not start at the end, it would be counterproductive. So I start for the last half hour.
In this last half-hour, in the semi-tranquility of the local beach on a Friday night, with a glass of red wine and a dog that could not decide if he was tired, or if he wanted to continue in an hallucinative mood, a brief instant became light Suddenly, overwhelmingly, I realized that I was on my own, with myself, the one and only.
Everything, but everything, around me, was secondary. All the noises were muffled. The lights were dimmed. Time has stopped. Briefly. I looked around and felt my presence. I in the body, in space, in time, in self.
It was strange, but at the same time, beautiful. I realized that for a long, long time I did not have a moment like this. Maybe years. Yes. Years. It will be possible?
I've been hallucinating for years. In constant haste, and disconnected with myself, with the world. Always running, always running, but running where? From who? Looking for what?
I found myself at that moment, I met myself. But in this moment of clarity, I realized I was lost within myself.
I look at the dog, I think of my mother ... authentic salvation buoys, which I chose to keep for myself, to avoid the disappointments of others.
But whom do I disappoint in the end? Was Kurt Cobain right, when one day he said goodbye with "It's better to burn out than to fade away"?
Until the day arrives, I decided to write. About everything, or nothing, or moments like this ... empty, but full of meaning. Or not, most likely they will make no sense. They are only moments. Without any classification.
For now, grateful for the decision I made, I will surrender to the silence of the night, clinging quietly to my dog.
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