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Will I remember...




One day when the dark color of my tanned skin fades, when grains of sand fall from my hair, when the taste of salt will no longer sting my lips, when all the blue disappears from the corners of my pupils, once the wind dies down and all the music in me becomes silent, will I still remember everything I'm living now?


Will I remember all those unusual and so everyday occurrences, which at first amused and shocked me at the same time. Will I still be able to see with admiration the starry sky and the nebulae around the stars dotted with the lights of fireflies.


Will I remember the night we drove on unknown roads to our destination, the cow that passed on the highway and those intermittent lights from so many gas stations? Will I see in my most lucid dreams the brilliant golden reflections in the wings of a dead dragonfly or the thin threads of its meticulously constructed wings.

Will I sigh with the same admiration when I remember the joy when I first saw an avocado tree with ripe fruits hanging from it.


Will I know how to stop at the smallest movement, sound, noise, shadow the way I do now, so that I don't miss the smallest insect or the thinnest scaly snake. Will I ever be able to summon on my skin the touch of the snake's tail that Anton and I fondled with delight?


Do I want to know how I felt for all those car rides to the beach, with the windows down while the wind blows my hair in all directions and while Latin music fills every pore of our space, and the smell of mango or fried tacos vibrates in my nostrils. "Mi amor, mi amor" echoes the voice of a certain Leonardo as he and I repeat in the same rhythm in breaks from laughter, while the motorcycles on the road are honking for who knows what reason.


Will I ever forget what the roaring water of the ocean sounds like, which never stops rolling new waves, so the echoes of them breaking into rocks or into each other can be heard as an eternal song.


Will I forget the song of the birds whose names I will never learn or the voices of the smiling people who bring us the fruits of their land every day.


Will the smell of fabric softener with a freshly washed towel take me back in a second to all those places, all the beaches, streets, rooms I've stayed in, and will I at the same moment hear the mixed voices of all those languages ​​that I once tried to understand, and it was so difficult for me succeeded.


Will I close my eyes and see all the opulence and poverty in one picture or the heads of stone sculptures on Caleton beach where abandoned puppies and their emaciated mothers with swollen tits broke our hearts.


Will I remember this sticky feeling on my skin - from the salt and sweat and the sunscreen that the sand sticks to so easily and that doesn't bother me in the least anymore.


Will I live with equal ease in the present moment, filled with myself and life itself, celebrating it with all my senses, all my emotions, everything that words will never be able to describe? Will I remain what is born, cooks, brews, grows in me, that throws me and carries me to all areas of being that I never dreamed would be a daily permanent reminder of how much loving life is the greatest gift.


If I could only choose again - I would choose the same: to have a home within myself and to go through this life with an open heart ready to give and receive again and again.


This is joy, and if I ever lose it again, maybe my memories will bring me back to the place where it is always there: deep, deep inside me.

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