Confession

I wish it would be different, but is not. I´m pressed to believe that all my thinking, all my memories are special. It has to be a lie. I´m not that special. I can only lie and believe in lies, because I´m the smallest thing I can imagine. I must be the limit. I´m wasted. I don´t want to keep this way, this kind of life. This is crazy.

I can´t be quiet. I don´t stop thinking. I can´t rest. Life has no rest. Death make us all normal, equal, natural. Expendable. I would like to be different. This is the way I am. I´m an obsessively dreamer. I can´t stop thinking on the future. On success. But these days I don´t believe in success. I only believe in the lie and doubt. I don´t believe in me. I hate to doubt.

If only I could be myself, without questioning every action, every thinking, every move I make. I don´t want to be a lier anymore. I just want to be normal. A true kind. But I´m wasting my time trying to change me. I´m a misfit. A coward. A lazy kid. An amateur. A selfish stupid. An hypocrite. Why things get so complicated?

I would like to spend my time being lovely, sharing the joy and peace of my heart. I can´t do that. In my heart there can only be doubt. I can´t do anything without expecting on the future, on some prize, some holy grail. I hate to be that predictible. I hate to be wayward.

Nothing changes. We only go through life. We get wasted. We dream the impossible. All that memories I want to save are not that special. They are just memories, like any other. But they are special for me. They are the only proof of the end of my innocence. The end of my ignorance. The beginning of my doubt.

I would like to talk about my childhood every single day until I get wasted. When I figure myself from the outside, I think that it has to be unpleasant to hear someone so narcissistic as me. I can´t help it, but I hate it. I´m not disciplined.

I would like to talk about everything I made. I want to be exhaustive. I want to criticize every movie I watched, every series, every song and band, every journey, every friendship, every love. Absolutely everything. Until the end. I wish I could feel better in the end. I wish I could feel comfortable, satisfied.

I don´t know what is next. I have never arrived so far. I have failed by now. That is my obsession. My goal. What really bothers me. The rest is just a complement, because I can´t feel all that is in danger. I said that I was really selfish. I don´t expect nothing different in the rest of the people. I want to find something really special, even for me.