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On the impossibility of turning inwards and finding anything


As I seat here to write with a group of women from around the Globe, I feel I have to look inside myself. And myself, this week, is exhausted and cluttered. I am not sure I can look inside and find anything. Like a teenager's room, full of clothes and books scattered on the floor. I will probably find rests of food inside a drawer or a used ballet shoe among the t-shirts. Like a teenager, perhaps, I'm not sure I want to organize that room. I'm uncertain of where or how to start . 

I've been losing things. These past two months of the year, this year that only had two months so far. I've lost a bracelet, a diamond ring, a necklace, not to mention a number of earrings I cannot locate. I've lost so much more in the turning of the year to 2019. Maybe I should not even care about these little things I've lost now. I, we, the country, lost hope, faith, the outlook for a better future. But maybe that is exactly why it upsets me losing any stupid small thing. I don't want to lose anything. Every day of the year we seem to be losing things. Every day is a 7x1 score, people joke around here, reminiscing our World Cup shame and failure against Germany in 2014. Every day, a 7x1 score. 

I had vowed to myself that I would turn myself inwards after things went bad and we elected a tyrant. I would turn inwards and live inside myself, surrounding myself and the ones I love with good resisting others I cherish. But how could I have guessed things would get also so messy inside? How can I protect and shield my inner world, my peace of mind, when the debris of a country keep falling on our heads? How I can I organize my room? 

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