why haven’t I finished my work? Why didn’t I submit it after all the work I have put on it? Why have I left my stuff in Paris abandoned?
Because I thought I couldn’t face all these challenges and then I felt that the sky was falling on my head as Astrerix and Obelix in the famous cartoon would say.
But after all, all wounds are there and they stir up the sauce even if I pretend to ignore them.
Can I do something?
Let’s finish my work, to begin with.
As if it were somebody else’s.
Let’s accept those hurt feelings and honour this girl who went through all these.
My past self.