It was raining, but I went out without an umbrella. I wanted that the rain would rinse everything away. I didn't wear socks in my sandals. I wanted that my feet would start freezing. Cold always brings me in the here and now.
I had my last penne al'arrabiata and a red wine in one of the restaurants round the corner. In a bookstore I found a book on India that I bought.
It was a great mistake to call my parents before my Indian trip. Even worse, I know that it was me who allowed them to spoil some hours of my precious life. I would have needed all the time for myself. At least I know now how important it is to get rid of all the conditioning. Nobody shall spoil my life. E. said it very clearly: Why did you call them?
My jeans jacket must go with me to India. For years I haven't worn it. Today I had put it on and it was so comfortable.
My parents exhaust me. There is no interest in me, they only want to control me. And I'm fed up with it. Once and for all.
Books that I will pack in my suitcase:
- How to read a book by Adler
- An English- French grammer
- After the ecstasy, the laundry by Jack Kornfield
- Emotionally free by David Viscott (now you know why)
- Quantum success by Sandra Anne Taylor (there will be a life after my extended holidays)
- the guide on India (to have at least a bit orientation)
- and two travel novels: Do travel writers go to hell? by Kohnstamm and Dork whore by Iris Bahr.
Enough. I need space for a few clothes in my suitcase, too.