I feel guilty.
I feel guilty when I don’t start working early in the morning. Guilty when I notice that I’ve lost a lot of time with bullshit. Guilty when the day wasn’t as productive as I expected. Guilty for idleness, for contemplation, for openning space.
So, today I went for a long walk.
I saw trees, the river, the fjord, the rocks, the birds, the boat, the lighthouse. And instead of appreciating all of that, I found out that guilty had gone with me for a long walk.
So, guilty made me come back.
And even after a hot shower, where I’ve tried to take her out as dirty on our skin, she is there… Using my own words to keep me guilty even of writing.
But there is something that guilty doesn’t know.
When you write it down, guilty disapears at the moment you put the end point.