This trip has brought many special moments. Each, a treasure that I keep and changes me. Perhaps the biggest change is to admit what I always been: a writer. I know the tough road ahead. The nightmares of the blank paper, the fear of the opinion of others. Showing what you write is always an intimate act. And is the moment of our greatest weakness.
Until now I always pointed writing to the place of dreams. Those things you want to do but in your intimate find it impossible. It was the simplest solution. If writing exposes our weaknesses, the commit that we are writers - not accountants, doctors, teachers, security guards, receptionists, etc ... - is an emotional suicide. After you do this - assuming that I am a writer - there is no possible return.
But it's the only way to realize our dream. It's necessary that commitment. Only with the possibility of failure that one can achieve something. I came to realize that with this trip. Not only it represents the fulfillment of a dream, but demonstrates that, beyond this first step, there is no hell but life.
I don't know yet the writer in me. It is a work in progress. Just know that I am. Always have been. Just didn't have the courage to say so. And now let come the success and failure. the hard work and some inspiration. And then, as with everything in life, we'll see ...
P.S. I dedicate this post to three future writers I met along the way. They guided me to this moment. Allowed me these words. And I cross my fingers so that you have all the success ...
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