Procrastination is not so as long as I am writing


(Hi. My name is Cristina, I'm from Spain and my mother tongue is swahili. Duh, of course it's spanish! But I'm also a translator, so this is a double challenge for me: journaling for 10 days and translating it into english, just so you all can laugh at me. I haven't translated for a long time and even then I wasn't such a good one, so please do forgive my mistakes. I love your language)

Today I noticed I like going for a walk by myself. It's been months since the last time I did it. And what's more important: I've done it on purpose. I've decided to go for a walk all by myself. Me, my cellphone and my headphones, to the Vedat*.

I thought -and expected- it would be very boring. But I was listening to music and, almost unintentionally, I started to sing to myself. That's what my generation -or maybe one before mine- calls "to be in a videoclip". And though I'm certain that Manhattan or Paris streets would make a more interesting an beautiful scenario for a musical video of my life, there is nowhere I belong to more than here, as much as I've tried to deny it for years. 

At some point I've felt my own company inside of me, way more peaceful and nice than I'd ever expected. Without obsessions, without suffering and almost without thinking. The music, the street, me, myself and I. My hip hurt -and it is still hurting, but I didn't mind then. I was just walking and singing. 

On my way back home, I accidentally called Marta. And my own company walked away with a smile and the music to allow us to talk.

I did what I intended by deciding to go for a walk alone: to activate my metabolism, to avoid sleeping a nap and to not invest a long time on it. But I'm surprised I've enjoyed the walk and the time with myself. I almost miss me.

It's such a joy to know I only have to grab my keys, my trainers and my cellphone to find myself again.

*Vedat: the mountains at the end of the avenue that goes across my city  

Cristina Serrano
Writer, translator, constantly improving