I wonder where I would end up if I left with my soul… I watch how silent. No matter how much it hurts, I prefer to keep quiet. I learned some time ago that there is no point in screaming in a deaf person's ears, or showing them how beautiful a blind man's sunrise is.
Time makes me realize that people love the way I am, but too few manage to cope. So I detach myself. They simply tear them apart and disappear. Why give explanations to someone who doesn't care why I chose to be absent? Now, literally, in general, the biggest disappointments are brought by people who haven't touched you with a finger. Probably for this reason you have learned not to expect anything from anyone.
You never liked perfect people. You know that the imperfect is beautiful in its own way. You know that every scar has a story worth telling. You know that every defect has its charm.
I wish I didn't feel everything 10 times stronger than I should. I even feel the emptiness in my soul completely. I don't know what's worse, to feel everything or not feel at all? You look back and realize how destroyed the whole interior is. You look in the mirror and you realize that what you see there scares you too. You have become a danger to those around you because you have nothing to lose. You have seen what it means for your world to collapse and you can do nothing. You lit a cigarette and waited for the dust to rise to see the damage.
Now you look at him and wonder if, after today, you will be able to look at him the same way. You don't like others to decide for you. You like to make mistakes, you always do it in an epochal style. You love to lay down your life on paper and realize that the woman you are today can turn infinity into something tangible. You have learned to enjoy life in all its forms: laughing, crying, being happy, coming, leaving or suffering. People made you feel or feel nothing. You know you can be happy by forgetting. And if happiness disappears, you know to forget again. You know when you look in the mirror that hides your smile. The others just assume that they know you and thus force you to choose the way out.
I like writing. It always hurt to watch a person's decline in their own writings. I rarely remember when it's someone's birthday, but I always remember how a person was dressed or how they smelled. I remember everything you told me, but I may forget what you told me two seconds ago to remember. Maybe I'll forget an important discussion, but I won't forget a look that made me feel like the ground was slipping under my feet. I'm dizzy for the simple reason that I'm too busy remembering the important things that normal people tend to forget.
In the end we all become stories…
