These are my thoughts while I wander through England.
I think about A. and how she so easily blended in. She’s blonde – well, blondish -, pale skin. She got the British accent so fast that I think I started to friendly mock her since day one. She fitted with no efforts, no struggles. It’s not the first time I get this feeling about people moving elsewhere. There’s the country you were born in and the country you were born for. I guess sometimes you find it, sometimes you don’t.
Maybe that’s the reason i keep hiding my tears on my way back.
I want to leave.
I rejoice with my inner freedom, my lack of boundaries, but i have this only tie attaching me to a city i chose to leave almost 5 years ago. A tie that dictates almost everything in my life.
It’s like playing with fire. I get along with my everyday life so easily and i love what i do so much that i just blend in. And it’s in times like this, when i step back from it, that i notice how focused i am and how easy it is to forget the world out there. The me out there.
That’s the price to pay. As all of the decisions we make, this too has it’s price. A price of captivity, almost. Hence, the tears. The price i’m willing to pay, the price i feel i have the privilege to pay, is also the weight i try to ignore.
But i’m a dreamer. And when i look at Lisbon’s airport’s boards and i see that a plane from my Nefelibata island will land soon, i feel my eyes and throat burning again. Only this time is a mixture of the infinite desire i feel of going there with the hopes and dreams i have.
I’ve been after this dream for 13 years now. Can you imagine that? It changed, of course. It was an abstract idea that seeded my mind and the The Road Taken somehow made it flourish to more concrete forms. And even if i don’t know what lies ahead, i still have this infinite hope on it.
And so i endure.
Who knows what I’ll find in the way? There’s always serendipity. Like this street musician playing a Coldplay song with his violin…