I’m staring at the blank screen of my laptop. I only typed down the name of this article. Time passes by as the cursor blinks on the same spot every time. My mind starts to wander…

Walking back home at four in the morning. There is nobody out in the streets. Just you, and the gold october leaves on the wet dark pavement. You didn’t notice them during the day. They give you this strange feeling of freedom when you look at them. What a night, you think, walking down the street with a big smile on your face. And it all started as a normal day at work.

Earlier that night, looking around the living room. You realize that there are about a dozen people from different corners of the world. Different cultures, different languages, different ways of experiencing life. The guy next to you is from Poland. The girl from US. Then there’s the Malaysian. UK, Brazil, Mexico, UK again. Portugal, Israel, Belgium and Sweden…

They’re all here. The whole world. And this whole world is small. Small and wonderful. Not big and scary, no.

They’re all beautiful people. People you just met. Some, five minutes ago, others just hours before. And they’re all here together without caring about borders or nationality or political orientation. They’re just here, smiling, singing, talking. That’s all.

Oh, and the last week, after wandering the streets of a foreign city you’ve never been to before, having one of the best dinners of your life. Just a bunch of people from other corners of this world whom you just met the day before, gathered together in a cozy apartment. And that moment when you said thank you, thinking that it was not enough and that you should have said more. But it was. There was no need for more. Just had to be there, crossing those imaginary boundaries we all have.

And then you remember more. You remember that you will always be welcome somewhere in Chile, Canada, France. And in Honduras, Germany, Norway and Australia. Or Argentina, Spain and New Zealand. And don’t forget about Italy and Peru and…

And then that hug at the end of last night, that hug that brought with it an immense thank you. An immense thank you just for being there. Just for being…

And that goodbye before you got on the train last thursday. And that little heart drawn on the dusty train window. A heart that you cannot erase. A little heart that stayed with you for the entire trip. A heart you still remember. And you will, forever.

Isn’t this amazing? It does not matter if you own a car or just a simple bicycle. It does not matter how much money you have in your bank account or if you even have one. It doesn’t matter what skin color you have or where you were born… if you wear a suit and a tie at work or just some jeans and a t-shirt… that you like wine or beer or coffee… that you hate chocolate (which is impossible)… or that you prefer movies rather than books.

Isn’t it wonderful when you realize that none of that matters?

…my mind shifts back to that blinking cursor.

I don’t care about happiness.


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