That summer season of…. Rodrigo Cuevas: I didn't know it will be the summer season of my life | Culture | EUROtoday

I feel that whoever reads this story is not going to imagine that it’s autobiographical; and maybe it’s not, in reality, because it occurred so way back… So many lives have handed by me since then that I don’t even imagine that I’ve lived it. I’ve to go so deep into my reminiscences that I can now not distinguish whether or not they’re my very own reminiscences. I might not be capable of totally discern whether or not it was me to whom all that occurred or whether or not I used to be merely seeing it, a witness to my very own story.

They say that each time we keep in mind one thing, we don't keep in mind the second it occurred, however relatively we keep in mind the final time we mentally reviewed that story; then, our mind finally ends up struggling a technique of enjoying phone video games, and that's why the variations of the tales differ a lot from one individual to a different. They slowly rework till they grow to be legends, the place actuality and fiction are intertwined and nobody can attest to what’s true and what’s not. That's why romances arose, in order that, because of the facility of verse, we’re pressured to not modify the info a lot.

Back then, I used to be a they’ll I used to be fairly confused. As Albert Pla says, I assumed I used to be ugly, and I used to be good-looking, I assumed I used to be weak, and I used to be robust, however above all, I assumed I used to be straight, and I used to be a faggot. There was just one factor I knew about myself properly. I assumed I used to be free, and I used to be, fairly free.

I used to be free, as a result of I didn't have a fucking display in my hand; I couldn't even think about that sooner or later, not so far-off, I might be related to a fucking display 24 hours a day. The day was just about based mostly on: being bare, salt water, contemporary water, breakfast, and there was no display to flee from… being bare, salt water, contemporary water, studying, and nonetheless there was no display… being bare, salt water, contemporary water, bicycle, recaossalt water, contemporary water, nonetheless no display…watching the sundown, bonfire, bare, cooking, nonetheless no display, sleeping within the open air, dreaming intensely due to the sound of the ocean, storms within the background, stars above; there have been no screens, solely stars, solely sand, sand in every single place; sleeping within the open air, sure orbayathrow down a tarp, sand, neighbors, additionally bare and coated in sand, examine, play, uncover, study to fuck, study to make love.

Always bare, at all times filled with sand, at all times no screens. The most essential factor about not having screens is that there is no such thing as a temptation to inform others what you do throughout the day; and extra importantly, you don't know what they assume.

I'M TIRED OF KNOWING WHAT OTHER PEOPLE THINK ABOUT EVERY THING IN THIS WORLD.

I don't care! I don't need to know what the fruit vendor, the baker, the one who does my MOT, the waitress assume… I don't need to know what they assume!! Because I don't care, as a result of it impacts me, as a result of it hurts me. I don't need to, and that's it.

One day we went to the market. The day of the occasion. There was just one bike, so we walked. Seven or eight kilometers? No concept. Quite a bit. I received a fever, and I couldn't stroll again to the seaside. We needed to discover someplace to sleep. Everything was tougher than La Playa. prao It was moist, the sky gave water to the corn and everybody is aware of that “The corn foyatu has a lot of wisdom: it saves the orbayu at night to drink it the next day”.

I needed to lie down beneath an empty stall, spend the night time on that chilly, exhausting asphalt, with a excessive fever. I simply wished to return to the seaside, to be bare once more; my garments had been rubbing me, it harm; the bottom was exhausting. It was the primary time I had slept on the road. I wasn't afraid, as a result of it was a really quiet city; however I used to be embarrassed and felt uncomfortable, soiled. I wished to return to the seaside, I simply wished to return to the seaside. But I needed to stroll a lot…

Today that seaside now not exists. Well, it definitely exists, however I don’t go there anymore. Now it’s overcrowded; virtually nobody goes bare anymore. Now, on that seaside, I really feel weak, like once I used to sleep beneath that stall on the asphalt. The information about “the best beach in Europe”, “the 10 best beaches in who knows where…”, Instagram and geolocations to spice up our ego and inform everybody the place we are attempting to strengthen our social standing, to climb the cool scale ruined it. Why? Not in any respect, as a result of we’re not cooler.

Today it’s now not a refuge. And I now not have wherever to go when my physique hurts, when my soul is heavy. Clickbait: I HATE YOU WITH ALL MY SOUL