Marrakech




It's been a long time since I've felt this way. Almost long enough to have forgotten what it felt like. But it's there again, the heavy weight on my chest that makes breathing difficult. And I recognize it now, the heartache seeping through my body, making me cold and exhausted and fragile. Making me a prisoner, craving to get out.

Sometimes there seems to be nothing ahead, simply because we are looking back. Our comfortably predictable past is too elusive to hold on to, yet we try. We fill gaps with emptiness and hope life will somehow rewind if we stop living. It never does. We get dragged along until we start using our feet again. And if we finally do, the gap will be as empty as it always was, we've just built a bridge across.

I'm in a little cold prison, waiting for life to rewind. Remembering the warmth and vivacity, thinking of the birds and the sweetness of the fruits and the people. I have felt so welcome. I've gotten out of bed so eagerly every day. To live, to see, to communicate.

Les langues que vous avez parlé résonner dans mon esprit. Il était formidable et il fait très froid ici.
17 jan 2014 - bewerkt op 17 jan 2014 - meld ongepast verhaal
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Profielfoto van Librana
Librana, vrouw, 37 jaar
   
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