I am here.
I am in Belgium but I am also still on the island in the big ocean.
I am also where I have been.
I am still fife years old, a handful with all fingers, like the boy of the neighbours showed me so proudly. I can't wait to become adult and free and finally get some things done whithout all the obstructions a fife year old has.
I am still a student exploring all the things a young adult can do.
I am still taking care of a farm, cleaning stables and growing vegetables and raising young children.
I am still working in a mad house.
I am still singing and talking with the trees.
I am in all the places where I have travelled. I see them, I hear them. I smell them. I am still talking to the people I have met. I am European, but I am also in Africa and in Asia and sometimes in Meso America or Canada. Life continues on all those different places and all those different times. It is all now. My mind catches glimpses of all those different realities. When I travel I remember. I recognise the ambiance, the energy of all those places which are supposed to be new and unkown, but they aren't. They are very familiar.
Life or death doesn't make much of a difference, as the past is still very much part of the present. Is the time difference real or constructed in order to make all those lives more coherent? Like in a painting clear colour differences create a composition, create a something and not an endless blurr of everything mixed up.
There is a manifold of me. Maybe I should say we.
We are old and we are young.
We are living many different lives in a multiversum all at the same time.
I am here and also on many places there, no distance, no time.