For the past three years of my life, I have been searching. I moved and traveled far and wide, across and around the world, in and out of countries and peoples lives, searching for something. I try this and I try that, hoping that through the chaos and the conglomeration of experiences, I will find what I am looking for. Yet, the more I search, the more lost I become. I am like a soft, smooth, sand rock, that has been dislodged from the beach and thrown back into the ocean only to be banged up and altered by the waves. “Mais vous qui n’avez pas les os en verre, vous pouvez vous cogner à la vie.” (Le Fabuleux Destin d’Amelie Poulain) Oui c’est bien vraie, mais a force de se cogner, on ne se reconnait plus. And that’s what happened. I have banged myself against life so much that I have been disfigured. I don’t recognize who I am anymore nor what to do, nor where to go next.
There was a time when I was excited and hopeful. I thought that if I didn’t find what I was looking for, I would keep searching. The more distant and abstract the place, the better. I got excited and enraptured when I found and fell in love with something or someone. But like everything, nothing lasts. I pushed so far and so wide and so fast that I eventually lost myself in the process. When I realized what was happening, I went back to the place I came from only to find familiar ghosts. I then buried myself in the moment, forcing myself to just be. But how can you be when your mind, heart and body are scattered all over the place?
So what now? I can’t be, I can’t go back. “Chose the road less traveled”. Again good advice. The only problem is that I just don’t see ANY roads. I am walking ahead making my own. But I am scared, lonely, hesitant, frustrated and…feeling very empty. Everything I though, is not and everything that is, is neither…
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