I thought I had it under control this time. It had come smoothly, the darkness, and I pretended it would not last, while breaking it with far away travels. But this unbearable reminder of responsibility that each new year brings got me from the neck and twisted it until my face could only see the snow. My soul mirrored it in a silver shade; brain and heart shut off. No thought of controlling it any more, as there was no thought, at all.
Moving in the automatic mode, trying to keep the positive self, the one that can smile, but often letting out this awful grumpy bit of me that tells things that noone needs to listen, I felt I was mostly spacing out for months and even not in happy fields. The only thing that was present in this non present situation was the perception of time, of the passing time, the time that passes and carries us to our end. And then, in this, our endeavors; and then the urgent description of these endeavors so that we have some social positioning. Year goes, year comes, we work, we produce, art let’s say, leaving traces, positioning ourselves. And then this phrase shouted out at this strange not so brilliant film; the girl screaming before throwing herself in the lake where she will drown as she cannot swim: NOTHING CHANGES
…to be continued