The Good Son Always Return Home (my re-introduction to the community) and a little bit of a rant about everything
I always had that feeling that I didn't fit in anywhere, not with my family, not with my friends, not even with my partners, somehow or another I have always felt that I don't fit in but at the same time I am part of everything, it's hard to explain, it's like when you are playing a game and at the same time you know it's just a game... you can play, you can have a good time, but it's not the same.
This place that once was Steem and now is Hive (which in a way is irrelevant) has been one of the few places I've felt part of, I found it at a time in my life when everything about me was creating, creating and creating, nothing interested me more, especially if I did it in an unconventional way, as it usually is here.
This is my re-introduction, I wanted to just go back to writing on my old profile () but I wanted to make it like a ritual, like starting over, like changing skin, like mutating, like when days and weeks and months have passed and you finally tidy up your fucking room and get all the dust out and get rid of the fucking clutter, I wanted it to be like that.
Many things have happened since I disappeared from this place, I kept writing, but only for myself, I didn't publish anything, I gave myself time to understand what was happening to me, to enjoy every moment and to live every experience without submitting or judging myself.
I think at some point I talked about my process after emigrating, the truth is that it made me suck in a certain way, for a few months, and I needed to rest and love a new activity, leaving your country entails a very big personality crisis, especially if you know you are not going to come back.
But the truth is that all these processes that we live, are only processes until they can be understood in the future once you have finished climbing the mountain, and now I feel that I am on one of the peaks of this great valley of higher and higher mountains that is my life.
So I wanted to bring back one of the things I left with the baggage a little further down, my creativity, my desire to write and share my thoughts, and what better place to do it than here, without any kind of censorship.
For those who are interested, and those who are not, haha, now I am starting as a fitness trainer, and my vocation is everything related to movement and the integral wellbeing of the human being, despite this, I'm sure my posts will be very cerebral, maybe a little creative, maybe a little sentimental, maybe a little deliberate, maybe a little inappropriate, because I'm largely an intellectually open person.
And what better way to start than to share this little story with you?
Yesterday I stumbled upon this rare short film, I was about to close the video past the first few minutes but managed to stay immersed; an ordinary couple arguing on the way to a family gathering while fighting in the car, tiny events detonated strong accusations, there was never any physical exchange of any kind but each of them knew that the damage they did to each other with their words could not be repaired.
Every night, each of them felt the need to apologize, to say "I'm sorry", and simply surrender to the emotion; allowing themselves to feel vulnerable in order to be healed by the other is also strength, as it implies accepting that you are weak, you are imperfect, just like everyone else.
The shock of this story is near the end, it turns out that it was not the first time, it was number 603; in which Jhon, the man in the story of this marriage, accessed the last moments with his partner (through an advanced virtual reality device) who shortly after many days of continuous fights and stupid arguments, died hit by a car.
Here a parenthesis opens, a sort of Radiohead effect is evoked in the middle of this short film, and this phrase appears:
"Live each day as if it were your last, they tell you, but they never tell you to live each day as if it were someone else's last."
I write this for you who read me, but I also write it to myself, that I transform and learn when I write and when I speak pretending to know something.
Things come and go, they never stay, everything changes constantly, and yet we pretend to live in a kind of static reality that never changes, what a fucking lie.
"a purple morning", I bring it to this writing because I feel that it comes from a revelation, and purple symbolizes wisdom.
lessons from this little text:
principle of impermanence or transience in Buddhism, everything changes, every second a life is taken away and another life is brought in, nothing stays the same.
people say stupid things, people are partially crazy (including me) so don't take things so seriously, learn to understand it, and you will avoid unnecessary problems and live a much fuller life.
this last one is weird and more than a lesson is a conclusion I came to after thinking a couple of hours after smoking pot, video and photos are the real time travel, just wait for technology to advance a little more
thanks for reading, peace.