The same sky above my head, changing colors at an incredible pace, and the same swirling wind in my hair, which has no case, never going to be groomed. The same hands messy and arms squeezing them with accurate and balanced doses of strength and delicacy ... yeah, like I was a very, very valuable thing. The same sweet aroma impregnated the air as a typical (for me) of the transition between seasons. And words. Incomprehensible and a little unnecessary at the time, fast, elusive, escaping with the wind, as if to mock me. Just a few years ago. So vivid
all so thoroughly stuck in the sensory rush me forever, that the thousands of tiny moments that attack my memory tangle me in the head and I find it very difficult to write.
How stupid ... but I needed some time a good reason to sit a while to download the mind, and finally found it. Or rather, I found it again. And not to say that now my life will change radically, not to say that now I can explain why every time I remember being confused / undecided / happy, I give the same description about the words. As if it were a estorbo necesario o una necesidad accesoria.
¿Por qué será? tal vez porque una parte de mí sabe que en momentos como ese y días como ayer, lo último que debí hacer era intentar hablar. Pero, ¿cómo no iba a hacer eso? si las ganas de expresarme, de vaciarme, de vomitar el despelote que tenía dentro desde hacía meses, días, años, me consumían y no aguantaba más.
Está claro que a veces se me olvida controlar el impulso de la curiosidad. Pero me gusta que exista alguien capaz de comprenderlo tan bien. Y todo esto es lo más incoherente del mundo pero no me importa, porque soy muy, muy afortunada. Por tener momentos como ese.
Y días como ayer.
