So I wasn't so good at keeping a blog, did you really expect more of me? A quick and accurate fill-in of the unwritten memories would include me sitting at Retiro, obnoxiously singing and dancing while drunk, and getting my travel on. Just put that on repeat for about 8 months and you've got my routine down. And just when things are going so well, its time to pack up and move on. I've realized, either by nature of my youth or just nature of myself, that's what I do. I leave when I can still hold high esteems of my experiences, leave before I get bitter, before the air gets thick, leave before the experience becomes heavier than just that and becomes life itself. Because as of now, I leave Madrid as a city that will always be remembered for its lazy diversions, simple pleasures shared by all on the streets, on terrazas, in plazas, for playing the optimist (or at least temporarily forgiving and forgetting) the hardships of a crisis by doling out excuses to party and enjoy good company at any time of the day, any time of the week, any time of the year. Thank you Espana for being there and being so slow, for not hurrying me into careers or shaming me for taking prolonged siestas. The many personalities I met right on the calles or the other auxiliaries that I will keep in touch with hopefully the rest of my life, I owe it all to you Madrid!
And even when after I had been fraught with frustration over my job, the teachers, I have felt enormously blessed to have had such sweet students who made up for a lot of my shitty moments.Sometimes their silliness was met by me with beratings and exasperation, other times though, their lightheartedness and openness uplifted me. Whether or not you kids all threw those farewell parties for me out of real gratitude and love or out a cunning strategy to get out of doing classwork, I felt a weird closeness and nostalgia that I didn't think I would feel.
Overall, its a straight languorous ride, from Madrid a cielo. At least thats how it'll make you feel.
