Half of me is me.
The other half of me is still me but in my absence.
I’m still in the same place but at a different time.
Because half of my life was the part where the words were not spoken.
The smiles were delayed.
The friendship that was once was the part I didn’t know about.
It was the shadow I touched but didn’t feel.
The work I participated in and still not participating in it.
Participating in and still absent at the same time.
All these made me a stranger to those around me, and strangers to me.
My half, simply put, my moment of incapacity.
Some time ago I went on another road but in the middle of it, I stopped. The road didn’t take me anywhere.
I had an idea and halfway through it was interrupted, the fruits were not picked.
I only half dreamed of a dream.
Bringing the two halves together, I try to form a whole.
To live the present.
For in this whole to find around life.
Not half a life.
And not the half that hangs somewhere in my past.