I’ve always been honest. Here is my problem. I don’t pretend. If I can’t stand you I’ll tell you, if you don’t respect me I don’t respect you, if I don’t want you near I will push you away. I’m not pretending, print it on your head. I don’t pretend a love that doesn’t exist, I don’t pretend to smile if I don’t like seeing you, I don’t pretend to have esteem for you if you make me sick as a person, you could even be 100 years old, nothing would change. Because I behave as I want to behave, as I feel I have to behave and not as “the rules” impose. This is my problem: I’m different from you and you just can’t stand this. My sincerity scared you, scared you that I’m real. Who I am will always screw me up and I am aware of it, yet you have to know one thing: better a hundred years of solitude than a single day in your company. When I saw that you were not sincere, that your play was only to exploit me, to draw on my resources, then I could no longer tolerate what you did to me. You are no longer a fixed thought as before, but sometimes my attention falls on you, for various reasons, but in any case I categorically avoid getting close to you, I no longer miss you as I once did, I’m fine without you, I no longer hurt myself, I have learned to be enough for a while now, I have learned to turn around and not find you, I have gradually got used to your absence, until it has become almost irrelevant, almost no longer felt, only in some fragments of time, I happen to feel your absence on my skin, but even this time it is no longer the same, I think about you, I think about you, about what we could have been but then, my attention turns away from it and I think that those who want you keep you, that those who love you stay, those who repent come back, that if only you had wanted with the same intensity with which I wanted, we could have been so damn happy, but it didn’t happen, and it goes well. I feel lighter now without you, I feel myself, I feel I don’t have to deprive myself of my life, and it’s fabulous, but above all I feel that I am in harmony with myself, I have developed self-love. don’t come back, don’t, not yet, not again. do not destroy everything I have created. go away. get out of me and my life for good. I’m sorry I don’t care, but I learned from you.


We are all so bloody selfish, lonely, fragile and blind.

This situation will not change any of us, and we will probably hug each other when it all ends, but soon after we will go back to being the selfish ones we always have because basically that's what we have chosen to be.

Some people disappear from our lives by choice, others out of boredom or perhaps because you realize that the saying "when you cry, you cry alone" is not as bullshit as you imagined.

Sometimes we just prefer to be blind and indifferent.

Nobody says something that makes sense, that has a value, we just throw up words, thoughts, maybe we even write songs, but we are unable to ask "how are you?" to whom we really love, because the answers, the real ones, are scary.

We run away, when things get difficult, we find ourselves answering questions from anonymous to "pass the time".

I wonder who cares? Who cares who we really are? Who cares if we're suffering? Who cares if it was a day to forget?

Who do you tell that loneliness can be hell?

We consume the keyboard, we talk late into the night with people who maybe shouldn't even be part of our life.

We give the worst we can give, instead we reserve the best for who knows who, for who knows what, we don't even know what we're waiting for, whether a signal from above or something similar.

We lie on the bed in the evening and cover ourselves with our faithful sheet of insecurities, fears, resentments and hatred.

Sincerity hurts, but it is right to point out and remember that we are only selfish.

People forget because it's convenient to forget, it's convenient not to remember.
I repeat it again, this period will not change who we are, we will hug each other again, yes, all this is over, but soon after we will go back to being the usual selfish because it is what we have decided to be.

Pride kills, loneliness too.

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