The Earth Globe.

 

The Earth Globe.

It was a warm Friday night at the beginning of the Mexican spring and I was coming back from a long and stressful day at the office. I could feel the heat increasing and my mood melting down. Fortunately, my brother and two friends were at home having some beers, I sat with them, had a beer, chilled and talk with them. Suddenly, out of nowhere, I got distracted by a colorful earthglobe that caught my eye. “Who does it belong to?” I asked, but nobody answered, they were all busy talking. I took it carefully with both hands because I wanted to remind me where Portugal was. As soon as I took it, my eyes were drawn to Latin America, I put a smile upon my faceand a thousand of good memories from the past, upon my head.  However, I did not have time to reflect on them for long because one of the lads asked me something. I carefully put the planet down and answered.

Once we had finished,I took it back and moved to the other hemisphere of the world. I stopped in Portugal for a while, then went backwards to Ireland, over to Italy, down to Africa, Antarctica and then all over the world. Later that night I went out with the lads to have a couple of drinks. On the way I bought a few cigarettes to use as an excuse to be alone. I did not want to talk much that night because I wanted to think about my travels.

When I smoked my first cigarette, the first thing that came into my head was that night in the Pacific Ocean of Costa Rica when I talked to the Polish guy while the monkeys were making noises.  He said to me:

“When I travel I like to write because it allows you to live on three times, firstly is reality, secondly, you recreate everything when you write it down, and finally, when you read it, you go back to those moments, it islike some kind of magic.”

When I had my second cigarette I thought of those nights I had in Ireland inventing kids’ stories, with the innocent expectation of a child wanting to hear tales. That memory connected with another one in Colombia. I remembered one night on the bus being excited hearing my friend talking about the devil and the shoes of a cute little traveler, I loved that story. Another memory was the night we ate Mexican food with a friend that owned a hostel in Patagonia who was also a writer for a magazine. Having left our friends in the bar, my brother and I walked back home. The air got fresh, I lit up my last cigarette and started talking aboutthe Argentinian magician and the Paraguayan clown that I met, who were also writers; the strange talksthat we had and the secrets that we shared. However, I had been speaking with myself as my brother was too drunk to understand what I was saying.

When we got home, I decided to bring the world in to my room.  I sat down, turned on the computer,played music and began to spinthe globe. Once it stopped I stared longingly at Portugal. Then the other hemisphere got activated in my head and this is what it said:

 “I took a trip around Latin America for more than two years because I wanted to become a writer, after a year back at home, I realized that to be a writer I must travel all my life”.  I looked up and read the note I had on my wall:

“Dreams that are written on paper are one step ahead to becoming real”.

Instantaneously, as I touched the planet, my desire of writing took the spherical shape of my own world. I was not expecting to find myself in front of my dream once again.

That night before going to sleep I wrote down three words: “The Earth Globe”. The most genuineinspiration to make my dream of being a writer, a reality.

-Voglio scrivere tutta la mia vita perché voglio un mondo migliore.( Al menos el mio).-

 

 

 

by David Herrera.