Dear, mi Amor.
People are so naive. People are so strange. People are so different. And yet, all looks like the same. They’re all full of shit.
I ain’t so good, ain’t want to be bad too. I am a useless prick acting like a decent man, which not. Not even deserve to be called a little bit decent. I am a shadow of mine, I like to hide. I learned to hide the anger, practicing smiling in the mirror, just like putting on a mask.
Half of me (inside) wants to scream and be acknowledged, the other parts won’t show up, prefer to hide and stay in the comfort zone. I am so hard to be understood. No, people trying to. I am the one who doesn’t.
Looking back to the past, my story was nothing but failures. Almost think of suicide when know nothing about love, complaining life was so unfair to me and yet so much out there are going through worse.
At that time, I never believe in words of tomorrow and future. Just don’t know if I was gonna copped or not. Just trying to live as much as I could.
Nah, but I was wrong. I was so naive. But then again I am just like others, I am one of the people.
I need to be more grateful.
It’s the best thing to do, mi Amor.