One day, almost suddenly, we got up and never sit down together again. And our unhappiness takes us out for a walk in a rapid and irrepressible way, over the most passed through places in the city. We feel claustrophobic within ourselves and walk among the people seeing their faces, their laughter, their taciturn glances that also feel isolated.
The streets are often gloomy,depressive and melancholic. However there are some windows, lights on and soft happy rumors over them, that make you rebuild the past and think if it will ever go back to the future. We look alone towards the balconies from where music comes and we hurt about how some simple hanging panties or some sheets create a voracious -fake-paradise about love.
And we wander and wander around other streets, under other balconies, captivated by other loneliness expressions which we may identify with.
Until one day, without knowing very well how, one finds himself opening one of those balconies to take a breather.We do it, and we don´t remember to lean out to see if there is somebody down, who is looking weariness how we undo the shutters and come out, some meters beyond the ground but, in any case, being the same ones. Perhaps we are not happier, but with that past for so many times rebuilt and turned into present.
"Those who wish to forget painful thoughts, do well to absent themselves of a while from the ties and objects that recall them; but we can be said only to fulfil our destiny in the place that gave us birth."
William Hazlitt, On Going a Journey.
