dijous, 9 d’agost de 2012

A being with no past

The pure night air was dense outside and I was lying in my bed when I first told you foreign languages made me feel as if I were another person. I love escaping from myself, getting lost among all the weird words I have surprisingly learnt to pronounce: it makes it easier to figure out what my life would be like if I had been raised in an ideal context. Words are my costume, a way to get rid of what I have lived and has made me who I am, a way to momentarily become a being with no past.* Sometimes we don't dare to take action because we are afraid that our dreams will fade away if they come true. We prefer to keep them here, in our heads, whispering and floating around as if they were made of unattainable little atoms of dust. Because opportunities are only real when undone, once you choose a path you have no longer a choice. Sure you can change your mind later, and try to take other roads, but it is impossible to get back to the place you were at the beginning, even if you carefully observed the junction before leaving. Everyone's got a one-way ticket, babe, and you don't want to spend your whole life standing in a platform, do you?

*A being with no past can be whatever he wants, because he has no fears and he's never been hurt (but that does not last long).