This is one of the rare moments where I get a glance of myself as I am.
It's hard to recognize yourself after some years lived abroad with no reference whatsoever of your previous life.
The whole time I feel like an empty box, as if I forgot to pack my soul with me on the way to this adventure, either I lost it on one of my first exploration of the millions of possibilities of a new start, a new life.
Too concentrated on what I wanted to be I lost who I was and now it's hard to get it back. Some days it feels impossible. As if I were watching someone else's life.
And all our yesterdays have lighted fools
The way to dusty death. Out, out, brief candle!
Life's but a walking shadow, a poor player,
That struts and frets his hour upon the stage,
And then is heard no more. It is a tale
Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury,
Signifying nothing.
(W. Shakespeare, from Macbeth)
No comments:
Post a Comment