I wanted to write something authentic.

Something that came straight from the soul.

To do that, I had to isolate myself. Be honest with myself, deadly honest.

So I left for a few days in Annecy, in a historic place filled with charm and memory a beautiful family apartment, perched on the top floor, overlooking the city and its lake.

I immersed myself in the atmosphere: the mirror of the water from the balcony, the vast silence of the mountains, the gentle chaos of the gardens below.

A living ecosystem, which, as I later discovered, once inspired Rousseau too.

I needed distance from the noise, so I could be as transparent as possible about the emotions we carry, we, the youth full of dreams.

I wove a story from my own emotions, and from those of my friends, entrepreneurs, artists, athletes, to speak about this paralysis of ambition in a world that sometimes moves forward without us…

And to offer, maybe, the beginning of a response: movement.

I hope this short story, though brief, carries the weight of meaning.

No embellishments to fill the silence.

No cosmetics to mask the lack.

Just raw depth, worthy of who I am.

And maybe, through it, you’ll travel within your own story.