In adulthood, in the lack of time and in life suffocated by the irreversible, what we dreamed - and believed possible - easily turns into unexpected nightmares. Like a shadow of the uncontrollable emotions that hold us back.
We wake up disoriented and suspend games, explorations and secret paths when losses become more real and scars seem to undo the skin forever. Like someone who looks in the mirror and cannot find their own face.
In our nightmares all those we knew fall like innocent soldiers, surrendered to meaninglessness. In the face of confusion, the overthrow of hopes and beliefs, promises and their reiterative pains. With the absence of our own strength and a sadness that seems unfathomable, we ask again: why won't the depression stop?
Until every now and then, without asking or remembering, our flame reappears and we integrate even if it hurts, we stand up even if it seems impossible, and we look into the eyes of our fears that now seem hopelessly small.
Yet another morning will soon come and with it a new struggle with depression that never seems to end.
