It starts when I moved out, but it is not clear yet when it might end.
For the first time I see myself, I am here, with my fragilities and my unacceptable limits. I won't be a thought, an idea, or someone else's judgment any longer.
I'm a photograph.
I have changed life, I have changed home, I have changed my habits.
I feel like a box, they took me away from myself.
I don't know what I became, what I want, where I want to go.
I don't know what I feel.
Abandonment, loss, strength, weakness, freedom and solitude.
They are tied together.
I re-work the world, I fix it.
I hold on to the light, to reality.
I try to straighten things up by losing pieces, then glueing them back chaotically, holding
my breath in.
And life goes by, disrupting every plan.