It is 11 pm on Tuesday night. Tomorrow I am leaving this room. As I look around I stare at blank walls, boxes, messy bits and pieces of my life. I try to save some of them, in my endless hunger for the future, for that woman that will, one day, look at all those receipts and pieces of evidence and remember how it felt to be me.
My headache is clearing, thanks to that aspirine. But I find it quite nice to write like this. Feverish, lost, utterly confused. The moment is right. And I have not done it for a long time.
How do I feel about Vancouver? About this year, this life, or version of it? I still do not know. Often I hate this creature that seems to be unable to find some normality and stability. She changes moods, opinions, rooms. She should really get a home, a man, a closet and a dinner table. Then I become very proud. She has so much more. She has herself, her whole self. This year I became a person, a citizen of this world. While I need help, I can do so much by myself. I am a rock, or becoming one. And do not get judgemental...Being an island (with a good port for visiting ships) is admirable.I am impressed, Filipa. That sort of reassures me. I am leaving this city. On my own, on a bus.
I am going down South to San Francisco. I leave with my heart open and my mind hungry. My heart is pherhaps not so completely eager. Many things are daunting. But that is what dreams are like: daunting. I am going to live one. I am going south to fullfil the promisse I made, that day, on the playground of my long gone school. I owe it to myself.
On the informative side. I had very good results for my classes this semester, as far as I know now. I was told that I should keep doing Philosophy. It was very good to hear, I confess. I put my work over potential "relationships" or whatever people call that these days. I faced the choice and I stood firm, as I knew I would. I can't wait to move in to my new suite in September. I am very very happy because my younger sister got into UWC and is moving to India in the Fall. I miss people a lot,but I am very glad goo things are happening to their lives. I wish I will see them soon.
The other day I started thinking of how lucky I am, how great my life has been. The last bad things that happened .... when was it? Things always seem to go right, to got perfect, to get better. I am afraid I cannot handle failure, pain or misery, because I haven't enough. It is quite literally the Spring of my life. And every flower is more and more beautiful. And the beauty is so much that sometimes it feels like I will not be able to see it all, like it is blinding.
I met so many people lately, so many people I am glad to have crossed paths with. Religion is little for me compared to the boundless fullfilment that collecting shining people like this is. That is the meaning of life: to touch and be touched by the wondering elements of the swarm of humanity.
I must write to people. It keeps me alive, and I haven't been doing it enough. I will bring paper and stamps, and books and some clothes. I will enter the US border. Sounds silly, but it does not seem very real. I have this fear they won't let me in, Somehow I will be stuck. Will not happen, just and irrational image created by years of social conditioning and pointless reflection.
Well, I will get back to packing and derived activites. I will probably not write here for a while. I will keep a journal of my trip and I will try to get published here, maybe some excerpts, if anything good comes up.
appologies for such a scattered, tierd text after a long absence.
