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Walking alone

Modifié le : 2019/07/14

I’m walk­ing alone again. Por­tu­gal sud­den­ly seems quite com­pli­cat­ed, real­i­ty catch­es up with me and nods its head to see me final­ly accept the con­clu­sions of all those lit­tle voic­es that have been whis­per­ing their words of gos­sip to me for a year. I walk alone because that’s the way it’s always been. As a teenag­er, I was in the clouds, as an adult, I want­ed to stay there. And the result­ing dis­or­der is a cho­rus hummed to bore­dom, per­sis­tent, obsti­nate. These are not tor­ments, these are not com­plaints. Of course, there are these painful waves that break when I look at peo­ple who seem, after all these years, to have found a lull between them. Hap­pi­ness exists ; I love being stuck to a skin, a soul. But I have to go back to sea, because those who wel­come me love me only moderately.

Why is this so com­pli­cat­ed for me ? Why does my walk­ing seem more cer­tain when I am alone ? Can it be that I am stu­pid­ly dif­fi­cult to live with, that I can­not be sat­is­fied with lit­tle when I am a lit­tle noth­ing myself ?

It may seem curi­ous to hear me say that I am not sad, only unhap­py. I have always loved oppo­sites, the tightrope of exis­tence, Nar­cis­sus blind­ed and disembodied.

I envy these light­house keep­ers from anoth­er era. I think I would have felt hap­py there in one of those tow­ers swept away by the con­stant roar of the ocean. Maybe I would have gone mad there and found the genius I lack. The courage to be what I am too.

I will nev­er say no to love. A sailor some­times docked at my dock and I tast­ed every hour of his pres­ence. He will come back, I’m sure. I only doubt that he will accept this light­house iso­lat­ed from exis­tence for long. It takes two crazy peo­ple to build shel­ter for them­selves. I’m still look­ing for my mad­man. Maybe I’m des­per­ate­ly chas­ing my tail like a dog.

In the mean­time, I have to pay my bills and repay my fan­ta­sy adven­tures. I walk slow­ly, with an uncer­tain step, in a blind way. Walk­ing is healthy, after all. Good­bye, until tomor­row, until anoth­er day. The dance continues.

Besides, that won’t stop me from con­tin­u­ing to learn Por­tuguese. I’m here, I’m stay­ing here.

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