The trouble with wisdom is that the more I know what I need to do, while not acting upon it, the harder it becomes for me to find peace. The trouble with finding answers to my questions is that they never leave my side ever again. If I don’t act, they will bury themselves under my skin and they will burrow deep into corners of my mind gnawing at my conscience, every single day. They remind me of my cowardice and lethargy that take over my destiny. The words and voices that have been waiting to be recognized, heard and freed from their prison of helplessness weep at my hesitation and indecision. They stare at me while I stare out of the window into a void of darkness and emptiness, stuck in quicksand against which my energy is too faint. The moment is but a long pause of paralysed silence.
‘You have fought many unfair battles for your dream. What will you have left behind, if you quit now? The way back is much longer and more painful than the way ahead. It is easy to fail a life,’ she said, ‘what counts is to render it a success. It takes courage to want to be happy.’