December 9, 2008


I have a confession to make.

I'm not even sure if I'm doing the right thing broadcasting it here, but hell, since when did I ever care if I'm dong the right thing or not... And I guess therein lies the problem - I DON'T FCKN CARE. 

When the sane thing to do is to care about what people might say sometimes, or take into  consideration a constricting value the spaniards labeled DELICADEZA, I don't... - And I guess therein lies the problem - I REALLY DON'T FCKN CARE!

And so I confess:

I am lost.
I have a void I'm always trying to get filled.
I'm sick in the head. I'm severely paranoid.
I am not as strong as I always pretend to be. I am weak. So fuckin' weak.
Sometimes the witty cheerfulness is just a put-on. The sweet smile, plastered.
The fashion, there to create fake confidence.
The sugarcoated poetry, a code for little redemption.
....and this list continues........................................

Sometimes I just want to let everything cease out. I just want to take a permanent halt --- but despite all the sins I have been committing I still follow God's Commandments, so trying to prove if, despite my numbness, I can still feel the sear as I bleed, is never an option. So I chose to bear the cross.

I guess this confession is a scream for help.
And this is the first time ever that I DON'T FCKN CARE losing my face just because I confessed this.

Thank you for the attention.

1 comment:

  1. What you write about fits us all, I don't think anyone can say that they haven't felt like that at some point in their life, if they do they lie.

    Think of something that makes you smile, it's all one needs, something that makes you smile :)