Is 4 in the morning and I woke up with an old song in my mind
and a bunch of old memories mixed in a blurry dream of me and my friend.
My old timers.
The ones who are going on with their life back home,
meeting at the same place we always met,
and then going to our favourite pub,
talking the same talk we had together, for years.
There is always a price to pay when you travel for a long time
and no one talks about it,
is the price of changing.
Changing while everything stays the same.
You travelling to experience the new,
but at the same time, you are missing the old.
You will miss the meeting in that same spot they meet,
you will not be there, in their favourite pub,
talking the talk that they talk now.
And usually you can live with this,
you will be back one day, bringing your new talks,
breathing in all that is there, never changing.
There is a price you pay when you travel for a long time,
when the world widens in front of you, and
your world fade behind you at the same time.
There is so much new in front of your eyes, and
so much that is not there any more.
So much you are missing,
so much they are missing.
There is a price to pay when you can’t be there
when someone you love closes his eyes forever,
when everyone is crying.
But again tomorrow a new adventure,
somewhere different to explore,
something new to blow into your heart,
while that little hole called home is hissing love away.
You need to do something to keep your heart full,
to replace everything that is slipping away.
And you wake up in the dark,
in yet another room you don’t recognise,
just hoping for a moment to see that four walls around you,
the same you had around you for years.
But no, is just another room,
while your room is empty and covered in dust and memories.
Travelling is a great experience, but
there is a price to it,
a fee you pay when you think you saw someone you know
on the other side of the street, but you did not.
You pay it every time you are in a place that feels like home,
but truly, it doesn’t.
Because after so long would be nice to see something you know,
something that is exactly how it was ten years ago.
Recognizing something, or someone.
There is a price to pay when you travel for a long time, and
is a hidden price.
Something no one talks about,
because if you do then from home you will hear them asking
“Why you don’t came back then?”
“Why you don’t stay?”
But, how can you explain?
How can they understand?
Is the price of being changed, when everything stayed the same.
That everything you love, and you miss,
but that is not enough.
Because you need to travel, to be somewhere else.
God sometimes you wish you can have both,
stay home and be away,
the old and the new at the same time.
But you can’t say it,
because they will not understand, and
you will not be able to explain anyway.
The night is still dark, but
I feel I paid my toll for today,
I paid it in words and tears.
Now I go back to sleep,
hoping to go back to that dream
where the old and the new live together.
That place where we always met,
and the place I’ve never seen, but
I will, tomorrow.