Life is a journey.
If I describe my days,
If I fill pages with it…
It’s because I know
of no return.
First things first…
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#7 - Hay que seguir
Sometimes I get tired of telling nice stories. Of making delicate, “sweet little drawings”. Of telling things from the perspective of resilience. You're lucky. You've been so lucky in life. I won’t deny it, but if I could, I’d throw up that sentence. Sometimes I want to scream when (…)
#6 - The memory of water
On the day of the event (i.e. the trauma), it's as if a part of the soul escapes from the body. The one that must be kept intact. The one that still smiles in childhood pictures. The event can take any form: an accident, a fateful phone call (…)
#4 - The next day
The horror of it all was that I had prepared everything in advance. Backpack, passport, essentials. A few days later, they’d be waiting for me at the airport. At that moment, I’d imagined only two possible endings to that story: escape, or death and I had chosen both. I was leaving killing her, the Eva everybody (…)
#2 - The wandering
It's my fault. I had established a long time ago that when things would go wrong, I’d simply cut myself off from the rest of the world. Remember when I was little? I used to call it “the extinction”. (…) But I'm scared. I think I'm stuck, Lidy. I can't get out of it. (…)
To start the story from the beginning:
“IF YOU WANT TO WRITE,
if you want to create, you must
be the most sublime fool that God
ever turned out and sent rambling.
You must write
every single day
of your life.
You must read dreadful dumb books,
and glorious books, and
let them wrestle
in beautiful fights inside your head. (…)
I wish you a wrestling match with your
creative Muse that will
last a lifetime.
(…) Which finally means:
May you be in love
every day for the next 20 000 days
and out of that love,
remake the world.
— Ray Bradbury
