I’m not thinking straight any more. Well, that’s just sometimes. When the fear grows – that fear that I’ve been writing about, that fear that makes you feel so very small, the one that shrinks you to nothing.
When that undefinable and immense sense of insecurity takes hold of my whole being, when it goes so deep that it shakes my inner self and gets me stunned. It’s in these moments when I need to face the grim fact: somewhere, on my journey, this fear will become overwhelming and it will be my only real enemy.
My bright day started early in the morning – fast wake-up, fast walk, fast job, fast photos, fast eating, fast breaks, all unravelling a strange sense of calm in me, despite all the commotion. I’ve been actually warned that I look and sound to happy for the normal me, but I didn’t pay any attention to that. Until the end of the day lowered me into the nights ahead. Will I will miss a lot of what I have now? I don’t honestly know. And it’s not that I don’t have much at all, on the contrary, there are people that are worth a million smiles and good thoughts a day.
The evening brought me to Blues Bar, as on any given Monday lately. In the mean time, I was more and more disturbed. I cried listening to Isi Dee‘s final song – something to do with safe and home. The second warning. After that followed what was probably the best Crafters performance yet. But I could not enjoy it to its full for some reason. I was somewhere away, grasping this sudden need of any form of security, of protection, of home, without even being departed yet.
Jim is this guy I’ve met outside Blues Bar tonight. I’ve told him about my journey ahead and he pointed out that I will need some sort of protection along this adventure, no matter what. His idea of a weapon made me look deep inside the mirror: Your best weapon is your heart. Your heart will protect you!
I will walk with my heart open.
Thank you, Jim.