(The time traveler)
The travel itself is the story. The destination, or the location of the moment have no importance.
Special thanks to my friend Andrea Gabaldon who let me photographed her : )
I took this series of photos in mid january, it was a personal attempt for me to talk a bit about life, decisions, and opportunities. Now, I honestly feel like shit, I know what I want to do with my life, but there are so many roads to get where i want to be in the future, and i no longer know which one is better. It feels like trying to see the street that grows behind the fog.
I think my big fail in life, is to silly believe that others can make you complete; to fill that emptiness that comes with our existence, with the joy of ephemeral happiness that other brings into our life. Because when it's over, it leaves you not only with the pain of loosing something that was never yours, but with the nothingness and the transparency of the skin you believed you once shared with the other. Lost in the travel like the last photograph, with nothing but yourself, and you don't know what yourself is anymore.
I can't sleep. Because I keep thinking in all the things that could have been different if I would have acted without fear. But then I know that I did everything I wanted to do, it bothers me to know that it was my time but not his. And honestly it also bothers me the existence of the street behind the fog, because right now I want to believe I will find his face in the crowd when I get to the next stage, and it cannot happen because the next fase it's forgiveness.
The street it's like the last photo, the only difference is that i will be able to see the background, things and people i cherish will be there, but not this other, this other wont be there, and now even though it's not possible, it's what i'm still looking for.