Y como del dicho al hecho hay mucho trecho y como el hecho ya transcurrió vamos a valernos del dicho para resumir grandes actos y pequeños acuerdos, entre el escritor y su historia, entre su memoria y su olvido, entre tu y yo.

jueves, 28 de octubre de 2010

Fuck Off !

Sometimes it's really hard to breathe. It's like you had something very big and heavy in your throat; like the air you breathe in isn't enough yet just to live. My heart is like a rock, but that tock can be torn into pieces (some day). Have you ever felt like your chest hurts but it is not a physical pain? Like no matter what you do, you always gonna have a hole over there? Like if your head is being smashed up by (you) something you can't stop thinking of? Like...

I know what I want, who I am and I know that nobody could ever love me the way I want it, the way I do. But, really? Sometimes we need someone there. Someone you can laugh with, someone who helps you carrying on everything you have in your world, someone you can shine with, someone trustful, someone funny and silly, someone just like you want it. Someone... who... doesn't... exist?

But wait, this is not about what I want (yet). This is about what I feel and how I feel. I feel stuck, as if I can't be seen nor go forward no more. I feel empty. I feel like a bag filled with stupid and wonderful memories (which have been killing me lately).
I'm done with lying, I'm done with casual sex, I'm done with trying to please everyone else but myself.

I'm hating my father right now. I'm a teenager, I can't be at home all time. I need to go out and see how the world works. I want to. He can't pull me down, but he can ground me.
That's why I love my mom over everything, 'cause she gets me and she knows what I'm going through.

I suck. I'm awesome. Both, big time. Peace. Period.

I wanna be free...

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