Nostalgia has been haunting me today since the moment I woke up. Not that I don't miss home, but I'm more nostalgic today for the person I used to be, for life not put on hold. I miss the confidence I used to have, and the pride. I'm feeling nostalgic for all the dreams I used to have, and I'm disappointed by the simplicity of the ones I have now. The ambitions of climbing the highest mountains, replaced now by the ambition to walk straight without falling down. I'm nostalgic for the eagerness to experience a free fall, replaced now by an aspiration to have stable steps. I'm nostalgic for the times when I wasn't afraid of bruises, when I was calling for scars, when i aspired for glory. Aspirations now replaced with a pitiful need to be safe, to have enough to eat, and a reasonable space to shit.
I'm nostalgic for the person I was, the person I will become one day, and I'm repelled by the person I am now. But mostly I'm worried about the rehab time I would need to be normal back again, to wake up from this stagnation.
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