I have spent the last week in front of the mirror, searching my reflection for something that´d denote how time passes by. Fearing that it would blow out the light of my eyes or whiten my hair.
My eyes ran meticulously over the eyebrows' arch that framed them, finding under them the violet of lost sleep. They began then, to go down through my nose, to end up on the edge of the abyss of my cracked lips, to which, my tongue tried once and again to give back their gloss, but it was ephemeral, and gone within seconds. And again and again my mouth went back to match the oval of my absent face.
I memorized my image. I was still being myself. And my mind escaped looking for ways to, like an oil painting, perpetuate the gesture of the last years of my youth.
But, how to stop the sea, how to imprison the wind, how to prevent the sun from sneaking away on the horizon, everyday?.
Close my eyes.
First, I froze the sea, then the wind, and finally stopped the sun. The result shocked me, a lifeless landscape, cold and wrapped up in silence.
It was then, that I discerned the reality. There is no sea without storms and days of calm, without the noise of the waves. No days without dawn and dusk. No me without yesterday, today and tomorrow.
