Tenerife. 2024.
This time, yes, we're escaping.
The winter,
the greyness,
the dull and the flat,
the dreary, the sad and the dead streets of capital cities.
the greyness,
the dull and the flat,
the dreary, the sad and the dead streets of capital cities.
Running away from the hostile grip of adult life
— the one where "love you" becomes "take care"
and where your Google search history shows "tax return deadline".
— the one where "love you" becomes "take care"
and where your Google search history shows "tax return deadline".
Running towards the soft foam that tickles toes with chipped nail polish, echoing over the turquoise water ;
towards the gentle caress of damp waves on the dusky reflections of wet sand ;
carrying away the icy January air that empties café terraces in a warm night breeze sweeping the glittering water.
towards the gentle caress of damp waves on the dusky reflections of wet sand ;
carrying away the icy January air that empties café terraces in a warm night breeze sweeping the glittering water.
Chasing the February light that warms sun-kissed skin beaten by its mild rays,
dissolves the winter pallor
and buries — we hope — anxieties and doubts.
dissolves the winter pallor
and buries — we hope — anxieties and doubts.
Wandering the endless roads we navigate at random,
thrown in at the deep end
— where you start to realize that one day your parents won't be here anymore
and where Sunday evenings tighten your stomach.
thrown in at the deep end
— where you start to realize that one day your parents won't be here anymore
and where Sunday evenings tighten your stomach.
You know?
Lost
in this world that's too big,
facing this endless ocean,
in this adult life,
but nobody quite dares say it because it's also the age when your best friend announces their wedding and your cousin their second child.
in this world that's too big,
facing this endless ocean,
in this adult life,
but nobody quite dares say it because it's also the age when your best friend announces their wedding and your cousin their second child.
Running,
hoping to let ourselves be carried,
like the canary-yellow buoys rocked by the green ocean
and drift without really noticing.
hoping to let ourselves be carried,
like the canary-yellow buoys rocked by the green ocean
and drift without really noticing.
Keeps leaving.
Stubbornly.
Stubbornly.
Orilla. Foto sacada en Los Gigantes.
Aliento. Foto sacada en las montañas de Masca al atardecer.
Inmensidad. Foto sacada en Los Gigantes.
