I don't feel good. Don't feel good at all. I hear my soul trembling at night, when I spend too much time thinking about the life, about my life, about the life of the others, those who share with me a piece of this time. Sometimes I give some smiles, but these smiles are only the mask of something very terrible, fears hidden behind the smiles, behind the words that I say, those I won't ever pronounce.
I spend my nights looking for some reasons, reasons to smile at the morning, to try to look happy to the sun, because he doesn't deserve any tear from me.
Everything has a start, everything has an end. Trying to avoid both of them is something I do every night, every day, while the moon and the sun talk about me, about the tears that I won't ever give to the world, about the fears that are hidden behind the words, about the screams of a soul that tries to keep on the earth even when, apparently, there are no reasons for it.
1 comentarios:
...Just when you think that it is over, it isn't. Life has a bipolar way to throw punches at you, often times to test if you are a specimen worth preserving. Clearly, you are. Otherwise you wouldn't be challenging life this way. I've yet to believe that everything has a beginning and an end. Such rigidity confines the parameters to a dichotomy we all should dare stretch as much as we can. Stretch so hard, so bad, so far, that like a rubberband, it snaps! It is only then when the cyclical irony hits in. You only thought you could push your potential so far, that you were scared you would actually discover that there was more than meets the eye. It is then that you realize life is measured by your own algorithms.
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