Second touch: We are the people

Up to the north I was.

Another formal greeting, the usual protocol I so quickly got tired of.

Upon crossing the gate, I glimpsed that tall figure among all those short-sized people, smiling so tenderly at me.

A second touch. I felt the joy take me over.

Summer was clearly living up to its standards up there.

The warmer sands of the just-known land were soon stepped on as the sunrays licked my pale skin on quite an ineffective endeavour to add some colour in it. How silly.

Looking forward to restoring the best of my inner energies, I dove in the also warmer waters.

Regardless having done this before, being these different sands and different waters, none of this was self-repetition.

As the morning rose up, a handful of fairly good friends embarked on a road trip across the states, questing after the sun, the nature, the simpler life of a bucolic surrounding.

The upper corner of the country was reached, unveiling a city that summarized the beauties of the whole region.

Boards had been crossed. Different people, different stories, funny accents.

The local folklore merged with the vivid-green sea and the palm trees.

Raw styled we were, contemplating the sky made of teenage dreams.

We were the people that ruled the world… Or has that been my dream only?

We were, once again, living the best of our youth.

And the absent figure, who in a long lost past made promises, was never even missed.

I am glad this is over.

Still, there was that itching pain inside me, for the doubts from the very recent past were still far from being answered.

Locked up in my shelter, quietly longing for attention and care, I was repeating the very worst of myself.

All dressed up in white, we welcomed the newer vibes as the fireworks illuminated the night sky.

I prayed for the best to come and for the seas to wash me over.

I was hands on hands with my friends, to enlighten my spirit.

Close your eyes and make a wish.
I smiled. Pain seemed distant.

Back to the more cosmopolitan life, which I happen to enjoy the best, closer encounters and contact with those deserving the best were made.

To my sincere delight.

We were in such a state of mind that we did not even notice as the chaos fell over the city. Gunshots and screams. Stores closed for precaution. A mother yelling for help. Running and despair.

Still, nothing affected us in the slightest as we strolled around.

Perhaps, I think, the metropolis environment smoothes away my worries.

Perhaps, I think, the tall buildings make me feel embraced and protected.

Perhaps, I think, the rushed life suits me well.

And together we were strong.

Being a water-drinking bohemian, the nightlife felt a little less alluring than before, which was hardly a factor to keep me away from it.

And then, while trapped in a little glimmering box, I met a clown, a dancer, a lover.

That was the extra salsa to my trip.

On the proper stage we performed. The dancers became the dance.

Spanish words written on a blurry bathroom door.

And no more details are needed.

The performance is over. The curtains are down – at least from my part alright.

And thus came the time for my departure.

Leaving behind the warmer sands of San Diego, my last act was giving the warmest possible embrace to my dear friend.

As the plane took off, I saw the city lights fade in the distance.

And after a rather long trip, I reached my home soil, with its unbearably hot summer.

My year was finally set to start.

Not going to repeat myself. Not again.

Cheers!

X