My feet and my path

I've been walking a thousand miles until I get here. It seems that I went through a few universes inside of me and, in one and each of them, found both scary and fairy things. Everytime I opened a door or looked through a window,  I discovered lost pieces of me. But, at the same time, I've forgot quite a few too.

I've been walking inside of myself trying to build up a new version of who I am. I want to let go everything that holds me back - and, apparently, those parts of me are the mainly ones. It's like the ground under my feet was made upon my mistakes and my messy thoughts. It's like all my universes weren't enough to handle my fear of living - or, in another words, my fear of being the real me.

I walked years longer than decades, days longer than a whole season and seasons as cold as an eternal winter. I carried my little bag with me, that one where I put my Hope. Because it was Hope that kept me going. I stumbled, I crawled but I never ever gave up of walking - I always listened to the desires of my feet.

So, my feet brought me here. And where I am? I'm not sure, yet.

The ground, this time, has more than my fears: there are leaves, green grass, blossom flowers and a few birds. I can hear some voices and music playing on the background, and I start to feel a different will on my feet. I don't know where I'm going - as always. But I am mad enough to seek another universe of mine, and I am not broken enough to give up on my hapiness.

I'm still carrying my little bag full of Hope.

I still have my feet on the clouds.


"The truth is that our finest moments occur when we are feeling deeply uncomfortable, unhappy or unfulfilled. For it is only in such moments, propelled by our discomfort, that we are likely to step out of our ruts and start searching for different ways or truer answers."
~ M. Scott Peck