“I’m here, thinking that nothing works.
I guess that’s what happens when you have any kind of expectation towards anything. I’m disappointed; of me, mostly.
I sacrificed so much time in my life to become better than anyone at this point.
That’s what I was thinking.
That was the recurring lie of my day to day.
I do not express it enough, and I do not brag about it, about how conscious my training was during the last five years.
In my first days of college I made a list of one hundred documentaries that I wanted to see before I graduated.
I made time lines to read everything I had proposed.
I tried to work, although I really needed to do it, in things that would serve me in the future even if they didn’t pay enough at the present.”
All this crap I was writing, and I had a lot more shit to say. Before I lifted my face and saw Buck chase his own shadow.
Oh, son, even if you’re fighting your fight. Listen to the whispers of the spirit of triumph.
Every little whisper, every fucking whisper says exactly the same thing:
Enjoy the moment.
Do not grieve for what you have planted in the past or be mortified by what you will harvest in the future. Being here is everything.
Be here.
Be here.
Be here.
08. 01. 18
