I miss the sun. I miss that feeling that I’m free and worriless; I miss the exuberated hope that fills me when I am running around in my parent’s garden with a green wooden fence. I think I was about 4 years old then. I miss my grandmother cocking in the outside kitchen and the grapes raping out in the hot summer. Will I ever be that free again?
Will I ever stop worrying? Is my life passing bye meaningless? Am I working too much without being noticed? Should I make a change? What kind of change? Should I keep fighting? How come that I have to fight for all my rights? Why does it look so difficult for me and easy for others? Am I asking too much? Am I looking to the wrong side of the bus?
I miss the sun. I am sick of this never ending winter, is almost April and the snow covers my yard, my soul, my days. I’m just the slave of a stupid routine: work, TV, sleep, work, TV, sleep. Is this all? Where is the sun? Bring me my sun…