Friday, August 31, 2012

Of pressurized atmospheres

Windows showing the world indoors has always captivated me, since when I was a child. Maybe it was this hint of unreached depths. Or maybe it was the passer-by being scorched by the cold and the dark and finding home in the lights on, the smoke rising, the laughs or reprimands, the smell of food.

It’s a very intriguing feeling, the way the entrance into this ambient made of concrete or wooden walls surrounding you changes your feelings. You’re in the wild, surrounded by merciless rain, and soon you’re in this quiet and dry place protecting you in a motherly way.

But some places make me unsettled, even uncomfortable, when I step in. It could be dolorous crests from being in places that remind you that you don’t belong. I feel it in these places, like restaurants and shopping malls, beaches and parties. Suddenly, it reminds me of those events that arouse a certain aversion in me.

There is a certain hostility in there that seem to scream against my essence, and all the protection I feel is gone. It can be so feeble, this feeling of lasting strength. Those places can so unexpectedly remind me of my insignificance that my dear feeling of self-satisfaction is sent to oblivion once again.

No comments:

Post a Comment