Well, Lisbon again. Since Rita moved there I visited her as much as I could and it was five times. Five times I felt more and more in love with that town, five times I spent a week after that with a huge emocional hangover back in Oporto. I don't know what that city has it always makes me wanna go there again and again (even that time I almost got mugged). Everybody talks about that crazy amazing light, I swear it's not normal, and where's good light there's good photos and where's good photos there's a happy me. Of course it's not only the physical aspects of it, the smell of Alfama in June and Martim Moniz or watching the day become night and day again at Marquês do Pombal and Bairro Alto but sharing that with one of my dearest friends in the world is priceless. Those visits weren't just a trip, it was an experience, made see what I want - not to be in the same place for long - and that maybe I have more potencial than I thought. Made me take a step back and constantly realize what I'm doing wrong and right with myself, others and my priorities.
Despite this, I realised what I liked more and it was me, a stress free, no anxiety no dramas me. I'm fully creative, I'm always paying attention to everything around me and I don't worry about anyone back home - you're suposed to feel like that on vacation don't you? - and I'm there free of my tiny social media obsession, like a nice detox.
I always make plans to organize my thoughts and priorities to come back home brand new but the minute I step outside that train, I get on another mood and forget all about it, forget my phone and as a result, the minute I step outside the train in Campanhã reality hits me, like a hangover - I'm writting this with a huge will to come back, but I can't put my shit on pause, can't I?
This time I went back to Belém to see the World Press Photo, ending that with a 3h walk home, a day at the beach, the first this year and a day at Sintra, but I'll leave Sintra to another time