walk

I've started walking with no actual reason or destination. It's been going on for a while. I've been going for a while. Trees, remarkable stones, rocks, forests just passed by and I was feeling that I can walk through any kind of surface, any kind of emotion, any kind of environment. That was partially true. Tripping on harder rocks and slipping on rotten wood pieces I kept on walking, sometimes against the wind, sometimes with the wind. I kept going. I knew that coming back would be hard and I've never liked coming back and disturbing the peace that settles down like a layer of dust after one leaves. I knew that even if I would be kicked out I had to go that direction the foot directed me. I had to continue and then just follow marks on the ground. Bread crumbs, white stones, blood spots. It doesn't really matter. I knew that if I walked to the end of the world all I have to do is to keep walking. I knew.

Usually, emotions betray really quick, and they still do. With tears in my eyes I kept on walking. Kept on biting my lip and humming Fisherman's Wife song. Where I pretend to be a good fisherman's women, working hard everyday, my hands cracked from the cold and salt, and in the night when I go to bed, I try to fall asleep listening to the boat breathing. At these moments my face beams with blissful solitude. I don't have to wait. That's my way and I keep on going.