There is a small box next to my bed that holds the smell of freedom. I don’t know for you what freedom is. It can be a temporary state, it may be a permanent situation too. For prisoners and people who have no rights of decision on their own lives, it is for sure a dream – or so it should be.
Personally, freedom to me is more than a state, more than a status. More than a feeling.
The sea, for me, is freedom.
Rough waves, slowly kissing the shore.
The blue turning into white when trying to catch the sand.
For me, there is no place more special than it. No matter which ocean I stare at, where I am on earth. There is always a magical connection that comes from inside myself and feels unity with the soul of the sea.
I just love spending all the time I have sitting in front of the sea.
Breathing with hungry lungs the breeze which hugs me like a passionate lover.
Almost losing the sense of sight staring at the dancing shapes performing the eternal show.
My body loose and naked, my shoulders relaxed, my arms gently placed on my knees.
I feel I am a kid again, as when the first time I went to the sea.