[...]

I've been home for a week. And I've been a while looking at the screen trying to find out how home I feel. And that home feeling is not there. I feel so awkward. So uncomfy. And it is not that I haven't realised that I'm here. Have been 7 days of an awful feeling of: Fuck, I'm here. But I felt like a stranger those first days. Didn't remember a lot of things about this city. About its people. And I cannot lie... it was awful. They've been 7 days of a mute grief. And the worse part of this is that I assume that I'm back. I know it... and I always knew it since I took that plane in La Guardia. But the deal is about how changed is my life now. And yes, my life changed. It changed because I could change it. The bad thing about feeling like an outsider is because I got used to a lot of things. A lot of things about my new life. That life I could build by myself. The life I always dreamt about. And prolly that's the thing. My dreams. The dreams I got fulfilled. Those dreams that weren't dreams anymore; they were now dreams come true. And the rhythm, and the sounds, and the colours, and the landscapes, and the sights, and the looks, and the hugs, and the kisses, and the money, and all of those things I did, and all of those things I could start doing, and everything I got... every single part of my life - that life made by myself, mine - was suddenly part of nothing. It seemed I forgot it at the aeroport.

And now I clearly understand what does everything I feel mean. I was so used to not to miss people. I never got attached too much. The last time I missed someone was a lot ago... until now. Why are this people different? Why...? I've always thought that you get involved with the less-worse people you've got close by. Your old friends from primary were your friends because I wasn't gonna go to the next school to find your friends. And prolly you opened your range of people in hi school... even more possible in college... but why, I still wonder. Why this people are so special to me? Why whether they are completely normal. Regular people living around. Talking, walking, working, laughing, drinking... loving. And then I saw. i saw how OUT of my frames where these people. And perhaps it's just a matter of randomness. As random as now Scenes of an Italian Restaurant fills the room with priceless memories of a car in the road...

Anyway, thing is that all these people were mingling their lives. And that's the unbearable thing about randomness. I couldn't choose. I couldn't choose amongst everyone. These wonderful people crushed into my life as if we were meant to crush. These people I miss because they were part of my previously mentioned life. I haven't been able to stop thinking about everything we did together. Every step we took. Every land we visited. Every night we saw the stars drawing hearts in the sky.

But what does this mean then? Should I forget them? Should I forget that I was able to fulfill my dreams? What then...?

I've been a week in this place that used to be home. It's hot. It's dirty. It's trashy. It's kind of fun when at night you spin records. And it gets lovely, when I touch these people again.

I really wanna go out and enjoy this. But I didn't wanna get the life I used to live back. Because I didn't wanna take care of it. Why would I do it if I already had the one I truly wanted to live? Well, I suppose this is part of the track. Part of the path. I just hope no one touches what is mine. What I'm pretty sure about is that no one will touch what I feel nor what I want. What I have... everything I'll keep forever.

The one thing I have left is to let my conscience be my guide...

This was the first week. I have a lot of them in front of me. I have a lot of things to do now... but I will never let my memories go. Not til I can touch them again...