This was a difficult poem to write. I felt exhausted after writing this. But this is what depression feels like. It’s not easy to talk about it and it leaves you feeling so vulnerable. Things are out of control and you feel just so helpless. You know, you shouldn’t but you give up. Some days are hard.
Why do we travel ? Too often we only see happy, fun pictures of the people traveling, the gorgeous locations and everything seems picture perfect. But is it, really ? We don’t have to hide the inconveniences. What if the travel wasn’t easy, journey was too tiring, food wasn’t good, the hotel staff was rude and room wasn’t comfortable. But we would still travel, won’t we ? So, maybe every once in a while, write about that. In this picture, I look happy, posing for the camera but I was restless. It was too hot. I wanted to put my earphones on and listen to music but I was scared that if I got distracted for even a bit, my daughter might fall in water. Holidays with kids are hard. Frustrating too but you won’t see that because no one takes pictures in those moments. But we travel, anyway. It’s not about perfect holidays. It’s about getting to know the world we live in, a little bit more every time we travel. Keep traveling and write about all those experiences. The good and not so good.
A slightly different take on my city.