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From one place to the other,
A few hours, some kilometers per hour,
But somehow… Some things are worth stopping the time for…
Worth breaking our constant marathon.
After all,
We are all rushing towards the same thing.
Of from it?
I feel like I’m going nowhere whilst I’m always on my way somewhere…
Aren’t we all going somewhere and nowhere?
One life time…
What is it worth for?
If in the end it’s the same and only exit door…
What’s that feeling always in a corner of my mind?
Lurking around in the shadows of my unconscious.
Keeping me alive and simultaneously consuming me.
I exist here now…
Here now.
That same thought over and over again.
Making me face a reality.
Facing some memories…
ullamcorper.
There, in the middle of nowhere,
Some dozens of minutes away from the city,
These square rocks.
I used to visit them frequently as a child.
Walking in between them, hand in hand with my father.
In a gloomy somehow respectful, almost ceremonial silence.
All we could hear were our feet which slowly crushed the gravels, the wind whispering in ou our ears. Our steps which led us on a path between this labyrinth of stones.
In memory of a lifetime lived we’d stand in front of one of them.
Nothing to do, except standing still.
Being present for some time.
Never knew how to measure that time spent there.
After a while, or a little bit, in that silence we’d naturally make our way back only to remain in this everlasting silence.
We’d reach a white rusty gate which made that very recognizable metallic sound when we’d closed it; similar to the last note of a song.
A perfect ending to this moment.
I did not always understand the meaning of this ritualistic promenade.
A respect to one’s passing. Someone I barely knew but I felt had a big importance for my father.
Although, I’d look up to his face, only a stoic expression would appear.
The same expression he had during that day in a church some time ago.