what can I write? but honestly. things do not change rapidly around here. even though some times it feels like today I am living a life of somebody completely else than yesterday. I am becoming increasingly busier with each day. just as I have always wanted to be. somewhere in between the lines, I’ve started another chapter of my life. in the last few months I’ve become even more independent. not because I don’t need anyone, but because I’ve allowed myself to be needed. and to be there. for me it’s easy to wake up every morning and from the first sun rays of the day, do everything by myself. I am trying to let more people in my life. open the front door, let them in. knowing who your real friends are, that’s where the freedom comes from. but I am too stubborn. you know that. you have always battled with me.
events of this year so far have shown me that I have to start making small spaces, small sacrifices for other people. not just to help them, but to fulfill my own purpose. something I’ve been talking about for so long and never doing anything. often, people ask me, what I think the meaning of life is. and I always say there isn’t any. just to set them back for a little while. but I wonder whether I truly believe that, or do I always just say it because I want to keep my front door shut. some people don’t know it yet, but I am actually a hypocrite. I am a hypocrite just by admitting that I am one.
this weekend has been an amazing one. I’ve allowed myself to drink white wine after five years and I am thinking this should mark a new beginning of our relationship. even though I can hardly imagine it. I think you would understand this better than anyone.
signed oscar wilde.