It’s funny how the brain select some memories. I can’t remember my telephone number but instead, I can describe to perfection the first time I saw magic. I was 4 and I went to the circus with my godmother. It was beautiful. And when the magician entered in the stage, he asked for a volunteer, and I raised the hand. His fingers had a bright red light that introduced through my ears and take it out from my mouth. For a four-year-old kid, that was impressive. I wanted to be able to do that. So i asked my mother for a magician kit. It didn’t matter how much I trained, I wasn’t good. Maybe, I wasn’t born to be a magician, so I quit.
When I was six, my mother made me read The Little Prince. I didn’t fully get it, it was just a plain and normal fairytale for kids. When I was 11, I found that book by accident, so I red it in one day. Once I finished it, I took 5 minutes to breathe. It wasn’t the plain fairytale I remembered, it was dark and negative instead. It freaked me out. The third, and last time I red that book, I was nineteen, and it wasn’t dark anymore, but philosophical, about reality and most of all, growing up. I thought that was a masterpiece, pure magic and it pushed me to follow my own path: Writing.
But it wasn’t until I red the last Harry Potter book when I realized about something that fill me with hope. J. K. Rowling rocked my world with a special sentence and I quote “Words are, in my not-so-humble opinion, our most inexhaustible source of magic.”, and if she was right, I still can make my dream come true. Like I said, I always wanted to be a magician.
So this is me. My goal is to capture my unconventional thoughts in this blog so I hope you join me in my journey of self discovery. Do not hesitate and write to me anytime you want!!!