When fear whispers harmonic minor melodies.

Thursday, May 1, 2025

Comfort being a currency means the exchange rate is what you accomplish in life. What exactly can it buy you?

I am 35 days away from what will most likely be the biggest madness of my entire time alive on this planet, and this is one of those nights when the fear mongering inside whispers words of tragedy. I am leaving home again, away from the reality I was forced to stay stuck in, like a clock hanging on a wall for decades, just letting time pass regardless of whether dreams come true or not.

I have left home before, a few times. I lived in another state for almost two years, leaving everything I had behind. I was running away from the past, and I found a version of myself who enabled me to see the world differently. I left my country for two months. Colombia changed me like no book could. Panama burned my skin to cleanse me of the old me and its limiting narratives. But now? Now it is different.

I was born into a working-class family with scarce resources and limited opportunities, but somehow I managed to forge my way with grit and persistence. This time, while working remotely, my plan is to do something my entire family thinks is absolutely insane. Well, they also thought moving states was insane before. Living in Colombia for two months was reckless before. But now? Now it is different.

In 35 days, I will board a flight to NYC, a place my old self could only dream of visiting. After that, Philadelphia. And finally, Miami. I am sure these cities possess the power to alter my perception of reality. Money like I have never seen before. Each corner wields the force of greatness inherently embedded in places like these. Being in the US was always a dream, but at this point, a comfortable dream. I am not scared. The fear singing harmonic minor melodies plays for a different reason.

I cannot simply board a flight home from Miami to São Paulo. My soul craves more. What if I turn on my camera and document an odyssey across Central America? Here is the plan that was once just a hallucination but has now become a map to make me transcend who I am and how I see the world.

Mexico, Guatemala, El Salvador, Honduras, Nicaragua, Costa Rica, Panama, Colombia, Peru (the city of Leticia, oh Leticia…) and a four-day boat trip across the Amazon River, finishing in Manaus, Brazil, where I can board a flight back home to São Paulo.

I don’t think I have ever chosen this itinerary as much as it has chosen me. It was just a far-fetched dream, and now it is flight tickets, backpacks, equipment, and a route to follow.

Am I going insane? Why can’t I just want a regular life like all my acquaintances do? Why can’t I just rent a nice apartment and find a life partner? Why the burning desire for adventures that could cost everything, including who I am? I already know this is an odyssey capable of annihilating my current version and transforming my identity into something else.

I will also have a picture here.

The fear won’t win. The outcome is blurry, and the mission has a starting date looking at me, smirking and nodding its head to make sure I feel the weight of what I have committed to do. Still, I move forward.