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We have arrived on Gozo at the beginning of November. Personally, I fell into a bit of depressive state. Maybe depression isn’t the right description. It was more like melancholy. I wasn’t sad; I was without energy. I wished to snuggle between warm covers and not move out of it.
Everybody has a past, even a baby who was just born has it — it’s short, but it’s there. And the thing with us and the past is that we like to use it for defining who we are. Even I wrote an article a few days ago with a purpose to declare why I can write the things I am going to write in the future. But why do we need history?