#lookingatthepast

  “Looking at the stars it is like looking at the past”, last night it suddenly seemed so real.  I realized how I have fought so freaking hard to leave the past behind, and suddenly that phrase made so clear to me how much I have walked forward, far away from that anchor. How I can rejoice on the elusive twinkle, on the statistically improbability of catching a shooting star, while actually being face to face with the sky, with my past. I still believe we have to leave the past behind in order to enjoy the present. But we can still watch it from afar; there is a whole galaxy between us. And even if I look at it for hours everyday, most likely I am going to spend more hours watching it on the daylight, everything made so small and irrelevant under the power of the sun. The darkness might still be there, behind that curtain, disguising it corpses of stars, but no matter how much I look, I know I am looking at something that seems like it is there, but is not, like every single star that died years ago. And so like a book borrowed from my parents’ library, I take from the past what is useful, my strength included, and only return the old pages that contain the story that do not serve any purpose anymore. And like looking at the sky every night, I know the events in the past will always be there twinkling and organizing themselves in bigger of smaller constellations, but by the time they already reached me, they would have already passed. There is actually nothing wrong about contemplating what happened, as long as we remember that empty space between the yesterday and today as well. So today I reclaimed my desire to keep looking at the past with the same magical enthusiasm I contemplated the sky in my childhood. If I do not like what I see, I can always stick my head out in the morning, or ultimately bury my head in a very entertaining book.