Este post está entre aspas porque quem está escrevendo é um alter ego, um heterônimo, ou alguém que mora em algum lugar recôndito em mim. É alguém que intrepidamente vai, mesmo sabendo que ir pode trazer de volta coisas idas, mesmo assim, pula no meio de transporte disponível e simplesmente vai. E se a viagem for longa demais para o momento, embarca mesmo sem meio de transporte, pois mais que no espaço, a viagem é em outro tempo.
"There are several levels where we live. Routine is the one occupying most of time and space, the so-called "real life" couldn't be less real. But it consumes our time. Some people are not satisfied when they stay only there. We tend to wonder - and wander when moving - to stare at nothing, daydream. We search for something that is not there where we are, no matter where is that place "where we are". Don't misunderstand being somewhere and being somewhere. We long. Long for a day that is not today, a time that is not the present, someone who is not close, a place that is not a few steps away. But we are not unhappy. This life is good, too. But it is good because we know the other one exists, we are here and happy because part of us is always there, because we know there is "there" and usually only we do. But if you pay attention it's in our eyes, deep inside. It's not the afterlife, it is other than that, and sometimes it gets very real, attainable and feasible. Those are the golden moments that keep us going. And may we never give them up."