I stop. I let the sounds, rhythms and words wash over me. My breaths become shorter and shorter and shorter, until they become more and more shallow.
I feel tiny in front of all the fire that surrounds me. All of this has a name. It’s called life, and I’m scared. What am I afraid of? To live? I’ve always been alive. Why? I don’t want to be afraid anymore. I want. I want to be. I want to be alive. For real this time.
This is the start of something new. The beginning of something bigger, something so big that it makes my eyes shake, my hands shake. It brings me out in cold sweats. Life.
I want to live every moment of it, I don’t even want to waste even a second. I’m still scared, but now I understand why. A lot of us try to push things to their limit, and surround ourselves with a thousand things, and try to stay in the shadows, chasing everything and every one, as if everything is reduced to being a great race to see who has the most breath. I’ve finished mine. I’m tired of running.
I let the sounds, smells and colours overwhelm me. How do you measure emotions? In breaths. The moments in which you are really alive are not the ones at a thousand breaths per minute, but when your breath actually breaks you.
How much have I really experienced from the little time that I’ve been given on this Earth? I have started to understand and use the breaths that I have left. The song ends. I’ve started to breathe again. Slowly. I’m not rushing anymore. I’ve stopped running.
Marco
