Turning Another Page

Turning another page...

How many pages have the book of our lives?

Nobody knows how long we will live, until we find out a lethal disease or face the dead. But some people live like if all the pages from they’re book are equal, never turning pages, trying to keep the same lines and the same paragraphs as long as possible. How good or how bad is that?

It’s impossible to say which book in the world is the best, some will like ones more than others; some will choose one or another. If we know enough about ourselves we at least will be able to choose what kind of book will be better to us.

I learned what kind of book I like and I’m still learning what kind of book I want to build with the pages of my life. I know by now that I always need to turn pages, create new chapters, and explore all the possibilities around me.

Let’s say that by know I am ready to try a new way to write, maybe a way a big more scary and unknown to me. For many and many years I used to think that I need to feel myself safe and protected, that I need something planed in advance, I used to think that I was able to plan my future and guess what will be the next pages in my life. Now I know this is impossible, at least to me, at least to the kind of book that I want to build with my life.

Why should I pretend that I want a solid work, when all that I want for work is to write? Why should I pretend happiness when people that work with me tells me how responsible and professional I am, when all that I want it’s to write?

I never could make money writing. But I never stopped to write, some kind of passion and hope always shine in my heart enough to make me write every time that I could and when I can. I don’t want or hope to achieve anything writing, just maybe something enough to make me survive – for how many pages I don’t know. (Does anyone know for how many pages will live?)

My English is not good enough to allow me write everything that I want in English. My free time and conditions now doesn’t allow me to write even in Portuguese as much as like to. And I don’t know why today I made this decision, but it’s a decision made. I will write as soon as my job here ends.

Doesn’t matter if I will be writing for everyone or anyone, I will write because of me, because of all these thoughts and these words inside me, screaming to be shared.

Came to me today the idea to count with me and my capacities, take a train by myself to Spain of further than that and give myself some time to write, to scream, to live what is already alive inside me.

How I will survive I don’t know, I tried to find jobs and works with no success, my contract will end, my biologist profession is already far behind me, but I will try to write these new pages to my life, and maybe a new chapter and book will be born.