Throughout the years, I was never sure of the health of my actions.
With time, I learned that utopias were the best way to assess the path where I was going.
I'd always ask myself, as an unbiased spectator:
"Is my utopia essentially good?"
And, for a long time, I became overly skeptical.
My utopia was having "fuck you money", buying an island, creating some robots, find a pill for immortality, then figure out what to do.
Escaping, surviving, hiding from the world. And I knew it was bad.
But I was filled with gray days, migrating through sterile meeting rooms, lonely airports, and rotten subway stations.
No matter how far and sophisticated, everywhere was void of life.
I couldn't force myself to enjoy. There was nothing to experience.
I couldn't speak the love language of bridges, mountains, castles, museums, rivers.
But, then...
A small bird got my eyes, we started dancing. It pushed me to fly higher and higher.
So high, my eyes are starting to see the dancing stars.
There is light, and I'm not as bitter against a dark world.
I don't wanna hide - there's a world that embraces who I am.
A world that I want to experience, feel and let it heighten my mind.
My hands are not alone, cold, holding a phone.
I find warm hands that keep me going.
And, perhaps, I don't know where or when I'm going.
But, I know I'm going.
I know we are going.
Always going.
Somewhere.
Where light lives.
That's my utopia.