I am not a fighter. In fact, from the beginning, I have been a quitter, always ready to throw in the towel. Never ready for the battle, always scared, always running away. Many times I admit defeat even before even trying, I am too frightened to even try.
I have given up on life from the very first day, always waiting for the worst to come, smiling at all times though... always smiling. People say I have a beautiful smile, I wonder if it has anything to do with having a sad soul. See, people many times seem to misunderstand what a sad soul involves, what sadness involves, I believe sadness is not just sadness, it is dept, it is immensity, sadness is its own form of joy, and I live it like that, therefore maybe that's what people grasp when they see me smiling.
Still, I feel like a spoiled brat crying at all times for the sake of crying, just for life to come all giving to offer a bunch of gifts to encourage me to go on, and I, in spite of all these offerings, go on with my tantrums. My tantrums of a spoiled brat because I keep on thinking I want to leave, I continue feeling I want to leave. I don't like parties, and I, certainly, didn't want to come to this one. But here I am, remaining in this state of time, while the host showers me with attention and presents from which I, most of the time, feel undeserving.
I want to call home and ask to be picked up, but I lost the phone number and I am stuck in this place full of noise, people, smells, life... I am on an infinite quest for my way back home. I am researching in a thousand books, religions, minds, and hearts, for those answers that would, finally, lead me back to the center. That would bring me back to the Absolute I came from.
I wasn't created here, in fact, I was born there. This is nothing but a cheap copy of myself. My real home is broader, complete, whole... and I yearn for it.
00:10
MiL
