A SHORT STORY ABOUT EMPTY SPACES
When you choose minimalism as a way of life, blank spaces appear
Sometimes I ask myself how did I let this happens.
I always loved to be surrounded by clothes, objects, stuff.
Well, maybe that's not entirely true.
After I said it out loud I realized I was lying to myself.
Clutter confuses me. Chaos bores me.
What I really loved was the beauty
The colour blue in a dress, a perfume bottle, a drawn in a book cover.
But if my happiness was in the details, my frustrations lived in the memories.
That sweater I brought by impulse.
The book I hated.
The shoes that hurt my feet.
These memories disturbed my thoughts
I'm glad that it was just a little nightmare.
I open my eyes and I remember what had happen.
Things became empty spaces.
The bookcase is half-full or half-empty.
Just like the wardrobe, the walls and the glass of water.
I guess I was affected by nostalgia. But, what about now?
What happens when we finaly left the chaos behind?
It's a strange feeling.
I almost feel like dancing.
And the empty floor is inviting me.
My feet sweep the floor following the music that plays inside my mind.
I feel light.
Like there's nothing between who I am and who I want to be.
Now I know why I have decluttered.
I didn't want an empty house.
I was just making space to be who I am