A day in July

There was a time before July 2017 in which the world appeared to me in a certain way that is no longer true today. Before this day in July 2017, I saw myself in a different way that is true to me today.

Many things were different before that day; first of all, I was younger and I had experienced fewer things. Nevertheless, I had more conviction in the beliefs I had then, than I do in those I have today. When I see the photos taken around this time, I can notice the tail tale signs of a younger youth that aren’t noticeable in the everyday reflection one notices in the mirror.

At this time — halfway through between an innocent and naïve youth — I was, unknowingly to me, caught at a crossroads of my life in multiple ways. I had yet to enter into a professional career from which to extract my identity from. Quite the contrary, the identity I attempted to mould for myself was crafted from a supposedly anti-establishment, anti-mainstream and anti-conformist ceramic. Before this day in July, I had chosen to live my life through the prism of Romanticism. I was driven to pursue an ideal, an expectation of how life should be lived. I chose a hedonistic lifestyle, attracted by an uncertainty that I concluded could be nothing but exciting.

Therefore, I roamed across the globe, searching for a home far away from where I had grown-up. I shied away from the expectations of the society I had grown-up in. What I understand now, years after this day in July, is that I was escaping the sacrifices that life expected from me. I thought that if I could…