The Journey Within

The road stretching from Curitiba to São Paulo was a harsh reminder that not all paths are smooth: potholes and cracks made their presence felt at every turn, demanding unwavering attention lest we fall victim to its treacherous grasp. The mountainous terrain was a mere two-lane highway, causing frequent traffic snarls as large trucks struggled uphill, slowing the momentum of every vehicle trailing behind.

Ricardo, with his hands firmly gripping the steering wheel, seemed to battle with both the road and his fatigue; the repercussions of a sleepless night were evident. Every now and then, he would take a drag from his marijuana, perhaps seeking to awake in its haze. Beside him, Natalia was lost in a world of dreams, far removed from the reality of our bumpy ride. As we neared the outskirts of São Paulo, the heaven opened up and greeted us with a drizzle. Overcoming his exhaustion, Ricardo navigated through the congested heart of the city, steering us toward the central bus terminal. It was a gesture of immense friendship, ensuring I reached my destination safe and sound. Our fraction of time together had forged a bond that became too hard to break. As the moment of parting approached, a palpable weight settled in the air, casting a hush in the car. After our goodbyes, I stood motionless, watching their car disappear into the rain-soaked streets.

It hit me then, the gravity of my arrival in São Paulo: the end of a journey that once felt endless, a destination many had cautioned against and others had cheered for. I had imagined this moment countless times - the triumphant arrival, arms raised in jubilation, a smile that could light up the world. But reality painted a different picture; my heart was calm.

Perhaps the journey wasn't truly over. Or maybe the essence of this voyage was to realize that some journeys don't have a definitive end.

<The End>

Rowing the oar,

I lost hold of it.

Only then did I truly see

the vast water around me.

("Rowing the oar" by Ko Un, 2001)