I ve spent the day listening to the sea. I am dressed in salt but undressed of untruth. A fair trade-off.
People come to Split and Dubrovnik so they can pretend to be Jamie Lannister. I come to Zadar to strip myself of who I was pretending to be. There's rooms for putting on your face and rooms for taking it off. This is for taking it off.
Here, I've got a seaside view. Quiet view. Unless the sea decides to speak
It's speaking to me now through little holes under my bum. The Sea Organ in Zadar sounds like a night at the Opera in Prague. Sounds like another time.
I'm taking. Time. To sit and be quiet so I can integrate all the kind, lovely people who spoke to me this past week.
I'm watching a little girl bark into the pavement. At the sea. And want to bark back. One of those things grown-ups aren't supposed to be doing.
All through the week, people asking what do you write about? Growing up was my inevitable answer. And they'd look at me like I'm 25, and I'd look at them like what do you write about? And when did you finish growing up?
I'm not done growing up. But I'm whittling new tools so that I can grow stronger. I'm getting at the age where I'm just brave enough to trust in truth. Because lies never really were an option for me.
I'm stuck inside the realization that selfish and selfless are rotten antonyms. Only extremes. The antonym of selfish is, I think, connected. So that you go not just with yourself, but also with others.
The antonym of selfless is connected, also. Connected to the thing that marks the barely visible border where you end and someone else begins.
This is yet another growing up post. Like them all. In between, I'm putting up stickers. So that whoever is supposed to find me does. :)