A lot has happened in the past months but nothing as exciting as the recent reopening of terraces in Amsterdam. It finally seems that our once dynamic city is waking up again. With that comes a sort of a lost sensation of hope, freedom and joy. The Dutch weather has been cooperating to the outside experience itself, even though it feels amazing to breathe fresh air again.
I'm learning to cherish and love Amsterdam again. It's a difficult statement to admit, but I have lost that ebullience which made me want to be nowhere else but here. For a long time I have struggled to praise this place through the same sparkling eyes that once made me fall in love with it.
I’ve rescued an old habit which has great potential to become a worthy occupation on a Saturday night. I’m weary of feeling angry and hopeless because of this lockdown. Instead I’ve made a decision, mainly to preserve the healthy sanity I still consider to have left in me.
Sometimes I think that I will never live in Brazil again. It’s harsh to say never, I know, but there’s not even a jot of desire that could picture myself there. But I do miss the Brazilian energy. A friend once told me “We Brazilians, whenever we enter a room, we fill it with life!”. I couldn't agree more.
