Land of castaways.

A crowded place built in a #desert filled with cactuses from all breeds.

A symbol of the #world I escaped from or of the world that spilled me out. One I cannot return to. One that is not a way, anymore. A former #lovestory, the kind you don’t want to remember.

Lost in new ways. Still, not in all ways.

People who go #South and me, today more than yesterday.

They smile by default for reasons I do not see and understand.

They #love to get #high and #drunk from dusk to dawn. People who invest everything they have in damaging their brains.

Why are these people here? How did they choose this place and not another?

Many are #castaways or chronically #ill and #crippled, people who came here to help their body turn into a milder recipient.

Many are also retired, people who live well here from the money coming in from their home countries. I have not seen in a long-time people reaching so old ages. They look immortal and suspiciously #happy.

I understand hard or not at all their kind of #happiness. It is too shining. It blinds me. It even hurts me at times.

They seem like coming from better worlds. Less frustrated, less hurt. They are happier, but they are not free as they think they are. That much I can tell.

Freedom and happiness are two different stories.

The #attachment of the ideas of good and more has roots too deep to set ourselves free so easily.

This South is not about #freedom, it is about a culture of #weakness.


© 2020 FIXER.NINJA by Georgia Mihalcea | Bucharest | Romania | +40 722 856 811 |

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