first...

march, thursday 4th

Took a deep breath, had wanted to buy a notebook and the right pen to write my first sentence, but i'm broke and my sis' computer was there begging me to use it so goodbye paper and pencil here i come 21st century!
I still cant release my breath, i always wanted to... write. yeah i said it. Me, Celeste 25 years-old, no job, no appart, no boyfriend no nothing, have decided to run after my dream. i dont have anything that i want to hold on to. i just have those stories in my head, just those. Nothing else.
They've been there all along. For as far as i can remember i always wanted to write something, to make people hang on to my every words, whatever the words.
'Why today?' Would you ask. 'why not?' I will answer. Today the sun is shining, the air is light and feels great and today is the first day of my new life, so why not?
So today is the day of my first sentence, the first try of what will be my exercise of being a writer, of being me.
Today is also the first day i wake up at home after 3 years. Home is Paris. Not where i was born or where my family home is. No, for now home is where my closest parent is and that is my sister. Im not going to talk about her now, my fingers are still shaky and my mind still fuzzy from the jet-lag, the change... from everything to talk about the Corporal chef.
So, im home and home looks dirtier than in my souvenirs, busier, noisier also. I do not know what i was waiting for to come back to when i first left Japan, but i didnt find it, at least not yet. I didnt expect miss C. (coded name for my sis, Carmen, also called the Corporal Chef, but only by me...) to be there waiting for me at the airport and as expected she wasnt there. I'd forgotten how hostile a place the subway can be for those who have luggage and bags and more than 10h of flight behind their eyelids. I had forgotten, but then, within the first hour of my arrival on the land i was about to call home again, i remembered.
I know subways, small, big, european, american, asian cities' subways. I've done them all, but yet again i had forgotten parisian subway system. Had forgotten and the souvenir is still hard to retrieve. Then and there in the subway, tired and lost in my thoughts i saw, getting off the subway at "Place d'Italie" taking the exit direction line 5, a butterfly. Not one of those big, colorful, beautiful butterflies, no just a modest one, like me...
My name is Celeste. I'm 25 years-old and i too am a butterfly. Unnoticed, discreet, common but i have wings and from today onwards i intend to fly... for the first time.