When, where, how?


How did I get here? The question that bothers me lately… actually it turned into an obsession. How did I get here? How did I get here?

Here… Where???

At the point where I don’t know who I am any more. It’s just an identity crisis or my demons just decided to have a riot inside my head.

Is weird to start blogging in such a pessimist manner but hey it’s my blog.

I’m restless. I’m in a continuous race with everything and I don’t have time to enjoy anything. I was never careless; I used to be a good child with good grades and good behaviour, always trying to do the right thing. Always worried about doing the right thing. My mind works without interruption, my heart feels the smallest emotion and everything accumulates inside me like the lava inside a volcano.

It erupts when i least expect it, in so many different ways. And it’s so hard to explain it. It’s so hard to answer the question “What’s wrong?”…

I try to deepen myself into work, but sometimes I lose track. I try to give the best of me but I only feel like failing. I am afraid to dream because I know dreams are not real. Am I a realist? Am I stuck in a bitter reality?

I try to have fun but there’s always something missing. There’s a shadow to my every smile. I always look for perfect things when I know that nothing’s perfect. And I’m stubborn. So damn stubborn.

I’m random. I’m looking for the small pleasures of life. I’m attention deficit disordered. I am a million shades of grey.

Whenever I have something I try to change it. I’m not a realist. I’m a changeist (making up my own vocabulary).

I am loved but I feel the opposite. Why? Couldn’t explain that. Maybe because I always find new principles and ideas to guide myself. Maybe because I just can’t enjoy completely something. Maybe because there’s a demon whispering in my ear “Ask for more!!”.

I’m not a religious person but I have faith. My religion is destiny. Am I a fatalist? Don’t know… don’t know…

Probably I’m trying to include myself into a category, into a pattern. I’m trying to be something that I’m not, that I will never be. And I can’t understand that I have to be me… free…

I have to free my mind from myself, from everything that ever happened. I have to come at peace with myself. I have to let everything go.

Confusing? Scary? It is for me, and for anybody who gets to know me better.

I always have the feeling that nobody knows who I am or what I’m made of. But then I realise that I am the one who doesn’t. I am trying to tame myself, because I feel I’m not on the right track. But do I need to be what others need me to be? Do I really need a category or a pattern?

May seem crazy talk, but this is MY crazy talk. I talk to myself to find out more. To know more.

Knowing… This is another topic…

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