Escoba desatada, persona desalmada.
Such a lovely comparison. It says that a broom that has lost its bristles is like a soulless person.
A soul is the broom each of us has been given to sweep the world. To sweep the corner of the world we call home and try to make it our own. But creating a place where we feel comfortable is not easy. Those brooms are bound to lose their bristles sooner or later. We are bound to lose ourselves in the world. And end up becoming just another thing to be swept out of sight. Although some would argue that losing the bristles of our soul is better than the broom rotting inside the closet, without ever having been used.
I wasn’t born to rot, I am too special for that. If my hair has to fall, let it fall.
We have already been happy, we have already swept the world. Now it’s time to care about our soul. Do you remember where we left it?
I don’t care about the world. I have never wanted to get lost in it.
