We never really move away from an old life, we just suppress it to entertain and make space for the new one. Sometimes, the new becomes so comfortable that we begin to forget what the old life looks and feels like; we suppress it into oblivion.
But the truly interesting part is that, we never truly forget because we never really moved on in the first place.
I am the master of my fate, the captain of my soul, I repeat to myself over and over while standing on the window ledge of our home, eyes closed. We live on the third floor and I have a full view of the street and market below from the comfort of my room.
I would sit by the window in the boring afternoons and look out into the street, at children playing or at women that were friends a minute ago now trading abuses. Bored still, I would move my gaze to a shop few buildings down the road where a television set was placed outside and various musical videos or movies were being showed and I would allow myself to be distracted by that for a moment, until I grew bored again and finally decided to look into the market, at the various people who had come to shop. I would classify them based on gender, the type of clothes they wore – English or native – their height and size.
On fuller market days, animals often got into the mix, until I finally grew weary of that, too and got up from the window, to lie on the bed and close my eyes and dream.
Dreams.
