It's been about two months since I'm part of my host family's life. Two months since I left my cute little parent's apartment in the French Riviera for a biggersurface in Minnesota. I know each part of my new room like it's been mine for years. I actually feel like home now. I even have my own ritual in my new room that I religiously respect every morning.I wake up in my king size bed, snooze my alarm clock three times to have fifteen more minutes of sleep and finally turn it off before officially getting up too late. I open the first windowabove the bed, use some of the jasmine incense and check out the cars outside for a while. I dream about me, driving the neighbour's classy black car facing the Mediterranean sea, the sunbrightening it. Then I turn my back to my dream and go toward the second window. Two months that I've been living here, doing these rituals everyday and I never noticed anything particular, nothinguntil now. I see the “frame”: The forest on the hill with the river underneath. I'm used to these trees, I know them, I recognize them now within the forest.
I remember this dream I kepton doing, with this house crawling down the hill, down to the river and me standing outside, staring, without talking nor screaming. I'm just there. But what struck me the most is this fixedimage of the forest and these trees positioned the same way than those outside, the river down the hill. I'm really scared thinking of it. I've always been trying to put rationality and scienceover the crazy ideology of destiny. I'm trying really hard to make up a rational theory that could explain how I could have been dreaming at least three times of this landscape, while I wasin the France. How and why did my mind transformed my palm trees into maple trees, my sea into a tiny river and the plateau into a hill? That is how I started my journey holding destiny's hand.