At a certain point it is impossible to distinguish the dream from the reality...
In the end, there is no real proof we are not just a hologram in someone's stupid experiment.
Current life flow of rapid events, extreme decisions, abandoned hopes and new unexplored opportunities come together in an entangled story, that would beat quite some books I have read myself. Everything is so momentary, that the realisation of the change is as vague as morning blurry sensation of something you can't remember, but definitely saw in a full-colour dream just a few minutes ago. Changing the whole value system, broadening the limitations of what was never accepted is always weird, yet now liberating. And I happily embrace that, accepting deep down inside the possibility of never-ending new beginnings. Each time with a few more grey hair, hidden under the soft reddish witchy hair-dye. I do not have another choice but to leave with an only suitcase and no memories: compromising on perfection tends to make my life far from the fairytale I am after. Just that.
And to relieve the overwhelming confusion with all the happenings that I have difficulties to sort out to set my life rolling again... I get Rotterdam skies, as a reward, painted in colours of my heart. I get cherry blossom right beside the place I now call "home", I get people I love, people that inspire me and people that I missed for a very long time. I get the harbour at dawn, shrieking seagulls, shiny city lights in the night, evening trains sliding through polychrome tulip fields...
The void opens up, letting in the Dutch wind and sparkling stardust of freedom. I lean back tiredly to the station wall, surrendering myself to the evening sunshine. And suddenly remember, I have to tap for a train supplement ticket.
- Mevrouw, - he calls softly when I am almost there, - wait, Mevrouw, I have a spare ticket.
He is holding out the supplement to me. I cautiously look into his blue eyes behind the glasses.
- And why would you give it to me?
- Because I don't need it, I have one more.
His smile is genuine. He is probably as old as my dad would be now and he lives on in his own dream, where he just gave away a spare ticket to this strange tired smiling girl. She is probably the age of his daughter...
At a certain point it is impossible to distinguish the dream from the reality. You just have to float on...
In the end, there is no real proof we are not just a hologram in someone's stupid experiment.
Current life flow of rapid events, extreme decisions, abandoned hopes and new unexplored opportunities come together in an entangled story, that would beat quite some books I have read myself. Everything is so momentary, that the realisation of the change is as vague as morning blurry sensation of something you can't remember, but definitely saw in a full-colour dream just a few minutes ago. Changing the whole value system, broadening the limitations of what was never accepted is always weird, yet now liberating. And I happily embrace that, accepting deep down inside the possibility of never-ending new beginnings. Each time with a few more grey hair, hidden under the soft reddish witchy hair-dye. I do not have another choice but to leave with an only suitcase and no memories: compromising on perfection tends to make my life far from the fairytale I am after. Just that.
And to relieve the overwhelming confusion with all the happenings that I have difficulties to sort out to set my life rolling again... I get Rotterdam skies, as a reward, painted in colours of my heart. I get cherry blossom right beside the place I now call "home", I get people I love, people that inspire me and people that I missed for a very long time. I get the harbour at dawn, shrieking seagulls, shiny city lights in the night, evening trains sliding through polychrome tulip fields...
The void opens up, letting in the Dutch wind and sparkling stardust of freedom. I lean back tiredly to the station wall, surrendering myself to the evening sunshine. And suddenly remember, I have to tap for a train supplement ticket.
- Mevrouw, - he calls softly when I am almost there, - wait, Mevrouw, I have a spare ticket.
He is holding out the supplement to me. I cautiously look into his blue eyes behind the glasses.
- And why would you give it to me?
- Because I don't need it, I have one more.
His smile is genuine. He is probably as old as my dad would be now and he lives on in his own dream, where he just gave away a spare ticket to this strange tired smiling girl. She is probably the age of his daughter...
At a certain point it is impossible to distinguish the dream from the reality. You just have to float on...
