Moving on-- with a feeling that I shouldn't miss on what's happening, I decided to take my Practica out and shoot more than I did the past few months. Funny, it got colder, but my heart got more eager. Temperatures outside are crazy, but thanks to the sun and smiling faces around me, I get through. If it wasn't for numb fingers, whenever I take me gloves off, I'd certainly say that winter this year isn't that bad. I was afraid of its cold touch upon my heart, but just when it started to freeze over, you turned the heat on again. Sincere thank you, darling. If I were to list the events that made the January the way it was, I should definitely mention Gdansk conference being a total win, at least for me, laying my hands on the new Murakami, Colorless Tsukuru Tazaki, Friday breakfasts, which we could make a tradition (I wouldn't mind), cooking for someone, under the table touching, and reunion with winter.
The feeling that surfaces the most is powerlessness, and even though I feel positive most of the time, I am actually pretty miserable. Whatever I do, I influence nothing. I just float. I am not even sure if I am currently on a tidal wave. I'm just somewhere, in the middle of the ocean, in the middle of nowhere. I mistake shadows as islands, storms as places to embark. The views are fantastic, I must add, the water's surface, on some days, glitters in the sun, and it's easy to let my heart love this state I am in. But sun only comes out this often, the rest is a mist, too thick to get through with my eyesight. The mist, which, it seems, I could choke on. But I stay on this raft, not even eager to seek a way out. The exit could mean one out of two things, drowning or actually getting somewhere if I just decided to take a chance and swim towards something, towards anything, rather than accept everything, every drop of water that gets into my lungs, smiling, pretending I am the toughest kid on the block, which I am not. I am not the toughest, I might still be a kid, but I am not made of steel. I am made of hopes and dreams, ups and downs. I am made of everyone that ever left me hanging, of each goodbye and every hello that made me smile after a long time of no smiling. I have trust issues and distance issues, actually a hell lot of issues, waiting to be approached. And most of all, I am capable of being nothing more than myself. So if it is not enough, I think I should rather want to drown in my own tears than pretend I am okay with us. The should do's were never my best friends though.