With my soul in the throat, I'll pack all these things that crowd my little room that are just that: things. I will need a bigger suitcase for the memories, though I don't want to take them with me in this trip. I probably should sell them 50 pence a pic in Camden Town. Since everybody in this planet trades with anything nowdays, I don't see why I should't do the same.
This is a journey for me. A path ahead for my willing feet. I sometimes sense I was there before, but that must be the collective Imagination of those who before me crossed the same ocean looking for the same thing that I do.
A different life.
Not even that. Let's say this life, the way it is, with a totally different background, no gold involved. No glory beyond the personal one. No fear either. Not bloody lack of network, or blipping fax numbers, or stupid computers that work all day under the command of boring orders.
It has to be a new canvas for my colours. I am looking forward to merge in that eternity full of sunshines I always reach too damn late, so I am not taking any watch with me this time, because time will be on my side, not blowing against me.
Me and the mountain, feeling its presence, its strenght, getting lost in the earth below... I can almost feel the air, the water running thorugh my feet...and I know I won't miss this sky that woke me from the dream...
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