Have you ever had the feeling that you are on the verge of something great? I’ve been having this strange feeling. I can’t quite put my finger on it, but it feels good. 

I am at the edge of a precipice, instead of looking down and fearing the fall, I look into the horizon and jump. As my feet leave the stable ground I start flying instead of free-falling. This may sound childish but that is the feeling I’ve been having in my chest. Even if I’m amidst a chaotic time I keep feeling these things in my body that just purely excite me; 

Writing again. 
Drawing again. 
Reading for pleasure again.
It’s like my body is finally feeling alive,
again.

It wants to move and enjoy the beach without caring so much if it has changed; feel the sun and the breeze as I lay on the sand. Maybe build a sand castle? Go for a reenergizing jump in the ocean.

How about spending a weekend in the mountains just taking in the fresh air, having great conversations with friends smelling the scent of pine? Perhaps, watch the stars. Disconnect to reconnect. 

It has been 14 years since I left Italy. It was such a happy time in my life. I would love to go back, visit my old school in Venice and the Galleria, get lost in the calli without caring if I will know my way back. End up at the edge of the water or randomly walk into Museo Della Musica and cry at the sound of Vivaldi. (If I close my eyes and focus long enough I can still feel the violin playing throughout the church and my eyes tearing up.)

The more I dwell on these memories and possibilities, even if they feel nostalgic, the harder it gets to contain my feelings. 

Is this what they call finding yourself?
Is it the thrill of the chase? 
Or a severe case of the Modernism?
I am not sure yet. 

Maybe it is just an immense feeling of gratitude. A need to experience now, not later. A longing that makes you sad yet hopeful.

Is it saudade? 
Ou seria o real retorno à casa. 
Liberdade?
Serenidade?
Talvez seja a minha verdade.
A tal da curiosidade
Alimentada pela gravidade.