Mine

Funny enough, while I was still chewing on this post, I took a quick glance at the ant’s blog, and she had wrote something very similar.
As usual when reading something the ant writes, I had the impression she had said it all and everything I might add to that would only be redundant and boring.

And still… I will write this for myself, in order to remember this feeling every time I feel lonely again.

The mountains make me happy.

Whether it’s because they are so still and grand and insert tranquillity into my restless little soul, or because their size makes me feel small and insignificant after all (a feeling of humbleness that I sometimes need in order to stop taking myself so serious) or because of their sheer beauty, never really being the same although they are the same for ages, fact is, in the mountains I always want to be alone, knowing that I will never feel lonely.
I am rarely so still and quiet as I am when I am climbing, and rarely my mind seems to function so clearly and flawless as in those moments. Fears I had for ages just fly away and complicated, “forbidden” feelings suddenly fit into place.

If we are the character that is easiest for us to bring through, I guess the real me would be the me sitting on the edge of a cliff staring at the white mountains on the horizon, saying nothing, as there would be nothing more to say.