Learning to Fly (161)
22/11/2020, Lisbon, Portugal 🇵🇹
Today I spoke about you. Actually, I remember you very often. You are like a tattoo in my mind, my life, my words, and in my idea of life and death. You are like the fusion of several things that look like something, but in reality are none of them if one looks at the whole.
The day I drew this was your birthday, and you were already very close to leaving this world. Probably, you already knew that… probably, you were trying to shout it out loud so that someone would save you at the last minute… or probably, you were intentionally avoiding all that, so that no one would feel pity for you.
You are nowhere. You are everywhere. Since the year 2020. And since 2021. Today, I almost cried again remembering your eyes, your despair after work and before being hugged. You flew, although you never took off. You went deep into the ground, although you became air.
Hermetic message, cryptographic lines dedicated to a person who will never read it. Evident feelings of the incomprehensible pain of knowing that you no longer breathe.
But tell me dear reader…
… nothing… today, better not to say anything else.
Good night ❤️
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These daily posts written during 2023 are part of a collection aimed to celebrate my 10th year’s anniversary in Europe. I write these posts to share things that happened since 2010 when I was in Argentina, a small story during my travels in Europe, details of those moments of my life that brought me until here… You can check the full collection here.