Surrounded by children’s toys, lost in tall rooms. Reminiscent of old flavors, old scents. I thought I heard my mother’s voice calling me home. I recalled familiar words growing louder while sounds of the road slowly dimmed.
I travelled through dull depictions on the walls, through old music, through implications, through glances.
I indulged in meaningless cheats.
I was anxious about the morning wake-up call to school. About the family celebrations I had to participate. About all my doubts. About all the moments I had to run away from myself.
I wandered on seaside roads. I resigned destinations. I watched as vessels vanished from the horizon.
I felt the presence of an old love, the first touch of hands, the fragrance of a caress.
I immersed myself in the immortality of a Summer’s night.
Then I returned to my boring “mature” thoughts. I kept on observing things from above, shuddering, pretending, sorrowing, but in fact wishing to start my life all over again.