THE BOY WON'T EAT HIS VEGETABLES

After a long absence over here- years long absence-, in a nostalgic rush for times long gone- my early twenties-, I caught myself once again at the gates of my old Tumblr account and still able to remember the password that would let me in. With quiet steps, as one would stroll inside a centuries-old cathedral, looking at the posts, as one would look at colourful stained glass depictions of antiquity, and no actual memory of when was the last time I shared something here, I walked into an encounter with an old version of myself.

Standing face to face to that version of myself, yes, I found nostalgia, but the one you can feel when you go back to the childhood house, to that romanticized memory of the early years, when everything was exciting and shiny, to that world you didn´t know held so much magic in it until you were far enough to see it in perpective. Standing face to face to that old version of myself, certainly was like finding home.

I looked into his eyes- mine- and I looked into a mirror, I found that that boy in his twenties from some ten years ago and the thirty-one years old man that I am now, still have so much in common, both of them still want to eat the world and both of them have the same interests (we both are still very much in love with art, fashion, literature, cinema, beautiful flowers in the countryside and beutiful buildings in the city, languages, and an assorment of many other things). Maybe he used to look at the world with a little more naïveté and I am now certaily more experienced (I have seen part of the world, I've listened to languages strange to my ear, I've submerged my feet in a different sea and crossed the ocean, I've kissed foreign tongues from far off lands, I've loved, my heart has been broken and mended ,and I've never regretted it) and maybe at some point along the way I thought I let him down, but in fact, I've saved him.

I think of myself when I was seventeen, I think of myself when I was twenty-two, I think of them and I say "do it for them". They deserve it and I deserve it. That boy that used to be me is my engine now, my motivation, the fuel to keep walking forward. I owe it to him. I owe it to myself.