De um Dário perdido: entre a injustiça das palavras e viajar do mundo

by Leont Etiel

Yes, it’s mine. The Diary of a traveler, a  lost and secret  Diary of a hypothetical traveler of roads and mountains. It was a long time ago, when I became disappointed on the human misunderstanding and violence of words. My place is nowhere, I belong to everywhere and nowhere. I am around the world.

As ‘a man from Glasbow, as Maugham has said, I have travelling many years all over the world. When I arrive in a new country or city, usually I am very tired and go to bed early. For this reason my first day or night in a new place is always quiet and very little happens. But yesterday it was different.  

I arrived late at the hotel. It was a simple and small hotel. I decided to stay in this hotel for a poetic and romantic reason. The moon was full and it a clear, bright night. From hotel I could look out the sea. The hotel had a narrow doorway and no name. When I went through doorway, I had to climb up narrow and dark stairs to the first floor. I came to a small cupboard with a desk in front it. This was the hotel office. A tired woman was sitting beside the desk.

Immediately when I said I want a room for the tonight, she took me up some more stairs to a room on the second floor. Inside this room the landlord was sitting playing cards with some friends. The landlord did not seem pleased to see me. He was enjoying his game of cards and I was simply a nuisance. He looked at me when the woman told him that I wanted a room. Then he said, ‘room five’, and turned back to his game cards.

The woman quickly looked at me and took me to the room five. I put my bags on the bed. Then I went to the window and looked out. I could see the huge mountain of city because the moon was full. So, I began to fell quite pleased that I had decided to stay the night at this hotel. 

However, after some time, I would know that a day is not only a day and a night is not only a night. In this moment, the Diary became unnoticeable. We just can read that unjust words hurt the traveler, but do not communicate with the language of the trip.