Home

The kingdom of darkness spreads over the land like a thick blanket that can consume everything. The air is cold, passing through the skin and taking hold of the bones, like a scavenger that snarls what remains of the flesh of its corpses. I find myself alone, walking on a dark path. In desolation the trees are found without foliage, they are only hollow and dry bark that writhes lamentingly at a sky that has not been merciful to them, and on a hardened earth that hurts their roots until they turn to dust. The feeling that takes over my body is that of finding myself lost, abandoned, lost... I have moved so far from my home that I no longer know how to return to it. I just walk, I go deeper into that deep darkness in search of a flash that guides me in the direction of the correct path. I desperately search for an answer to the deepest fears that attack my nights and fill them with nightmares. However, I can't find it, I only hear a deaf silence in that melancholic landscape. With each passing minute I fade a little. That is the greatest of my fears, that my essence ends up extinguished in the ocean of nothingness. And maybe I will… I guess I won't be there to find out.

Where do I belong? I seem to have already forgotten. This world has seen to it that I get lost with its blinding lights in the heavy night. My memories disappear and those that I once had, those that connected me with my remotest origins, have completely left my mind. To calm myself, I try to convince myself that they remain somewhere in my memory, hidden, waiting to be released the day I leave this earthly precinct. Sometimes I think they wait silently for me to hear them through so much internal noise, but in matters of the mind nothing is what it seems. The world of dreams, that of memories, and that of reality mix so often that it is difficult to distinguish one from the other. I can't even trust myself, which leaves me more lost than before. The only thing that is clear to me is that every day I am dying, slowly but steadily. And this world in which I find myself, the one that is familiar to me now, but will one day cease to be, is the only thing that keeps me awake, it is the only thing that gives me meaning.

Where do I come from and where am I headed? I'm not entirely sure, I guess it all comes down to a leap of faith. Faith in what once was and what once could have been. Faith in what I have believed to be, but that I can never be. If my question focuses on searching for a place of origin, I recognize that in this dark world there is a hidden place in the past. A city of strangers that witnessed my arrival on a night shaken by cries of pain and agony. The full moon dwindled until it was without a single gray gleam, the stars clung to existence and the wild animals looked expectantly at the beast that took over their lands bathed in the blood of a mother. Never had such a stormy phenomenon been witnessed as the night I came to this world. However, that small city built on the mountains fell behind as quickly as it had risen. And it darkened like this landscape I walk through, cold, and desolated. I do not know that city, I do not recognize it and, therefore, I do not seek to reach it again. I know that I will not find answers to this icy feeling there.

I sigh, the air penetrates and burns the lungs. The feet tremble, but they continue with short steps the impassive path. The shadows dance next to the depressed trees, some observe the visitor and laugh at their vain sorrows, others cry piteously towards the being that becomes a memory. Other shadows, the most fatuous of all, continue smug without realizing who is passing by their side. They are not interested, nor do they care, they too will end up extinct. Among the sky appears a figure that rises above all. It does not cause any terror, not to the walker who passes by the path... or at least it did not use to do it in the past, more and more distant. He is a friend, a relative, a partner. He likes to believe that it has always been there with him, but he has no tangible proof of that. That is why it is an act of faith. The figure has no face, it never did before the eyes of that child who was locked up in the frigid alcoves of the palace, but he knows that, if he did, he would be smiling. From a closed and non-existent mouth, more than dull and empty sounds are emitted. He speaks, says that he can rest easy, he feels like part of his home. However, time has also been responsible for fading it. As quickly as he has returned from the past, he vanishes again in the icy fields of oblivion. The passer-by tries with all his efforts to keep the memory of him because he does not want to lose him, because at least in the past he feels calm.

I think I'm walking home. That of warm embers that flood the bedrooms of life with security. That one with woody scents with nuances of eucalyptus and pine. A place where laughter breaks the raw silence, where the ocean becomes a lake and love replaces sadness. I see it in the distance, it is so far removed from the world of lights that it makes me feel uneasy. My ancestors dwell there, those I have known and those who have passed away. My roots bind me to that place in a way that no other can, but the feeling of belonging is not enough for it to stay. The journey I travel takes me beyond safe horizons. Then, I get to feel trapped where the warmth floods the bedrooms and where the silence is lost in the songs of the children. In the home I find security in the same way that I find death. The company joins the isolation. This place offers a different kind of happiness than what I long for. That's why I keep moving towards lands that are covered with a different kind of noise, entertainment, and adventure. I want to feel alive before I fade away. Even if the memories fade, even if life slips through my fingers, even if the eternal dark and silent liquid catches my essence to seize it. I want to explore worlds where I can die without feeling like I'm dying. There is no point in looking for a physical place because it ends up being just that. The fire that I need to feel safe again is found in what motivates me to go further, it is the one that illuminates the black landscapes and the one that dispels all my fears. I understand that I do not want to fade away tied to immutability and conservatism. I long to transform myself until my ashes join the earth, and my spirit joins the lights of heaven. That's why I stay away from the soot, from the embers and from safety.

That is the reason I am far from home…