I’ve been traveling around Mediterranean for seven days, so this is the 3rd story of my last project “The Middle of Nowhere” entirely developed on the sea.
3. Never Ending Why.
There’s an Icelandic word I always loved: “heima”.
It literally means “at home”.
What kind of home we are talking about? A shelter? A place to feel safe in? Love?
Or a concept? An abstract universe existing only in your mind to justify your missing pieces? That one that gives you the strength to carry on.
I do think there’s a place over there for everyone of us, it should be.
It must be.
Or maybe I just believe in tails, you know, those happy endings made to let us feeling a little bit hopeful.
Being in the middle of nowhere is reassuring, I can’t deny it, but where’s home? What’s home?
And what’s the place I come from?
When everything will be finished, where should I go back to?
I think I never knew it, and sometimes I’m afraid I’ll never do.