My story is a book... that was the moment where it all started. let me tell you my story, I barely recover my memory, everything is still confusing.
I remember Juan Valera, my cooking teacher, and I remember that he is connected with my life in the theater.
Excuse?
Are you listening to me? I think not.
Do you believe me? unimportant My parents don't either, I'm used to people ignoring me, but I'll keep talking to myself, someone will listen to me. maybe if I yell loudly or maybe if I see you, don't laugh, don't please, don't make fun of me, did you talk to my parents? or is it that...
Do you know who I am? tell me please, I don't know, I only remember the day I got married.
I had three dogs and a cat, I remember the blue flower hanging in the window, the wind blew and it swayed, it came and went, do you remember it too? Were you there? My parents didn't go, I didn't invite them because they hurt my doll. Don't they know how important it was to me? I think they didn't care and left her to die.
Since that day I no longer live. I breathe alone.
Let's do something that doesn't give me away. if you have to kill someone, kill that bitch, that one, the one who prescribed these fucking medications that gave me this terrible addiction. but get over it. my psychiatrist says: take 50 mg every day, whore! I am no longer who I am, and who am I? I think metaphysics is rubbish and the brain is a sentence. This damn desire to reason is what led me to look for you...
Wait, wait a minute while I brew the coffee.. I wanted to write my story but I don't know where to start, listen to me, I have nowhere to be. would you give me a job? hare what sea. I just need a home. I'll clean any bathroom for a little love, I can I don't know, yes, I know, I'll clean your shoes for a little attention.
You want to be my friend? the ones I had were born years ago.
What?
I only talk to myself? oh!! truth! I'll bring the coffee, that's it, where am I? Nose. Help me remember, just hold my hand. sure that would help. The last time someone touched me, I don't remember.
You're watching me? I only see empty, lost looks, dad are you there? Yes, if you are, that's fine, here I bring you coffee so you can talk to me about me, you'll say it's my fault, but it's not. It's just that sensitivity boils me, like water for coffee...
Photo of me edited in PicsArt
Thanks to @betavirosis for the separator
Mi historia es un libro... ese fue el momento donde todo comenzó. dejame contarte mi historia, apenas recupero la memoria, aún todo es confuso.
Recuerdo a Juan valera mi maestro de cocina y recuerdo que hay conecte con mi vida en el teatro.
Disculpa?
Me estas escuchando? creo que no.
Me crees? no importa. Mis padres tampoco lo hacen, ya me acostumbre a que la gente me ignore, pero seguiré hablando sola, alguien me escuchara. tal vez si lo grito con fuerza o tal vez si te veo, no te rías, no por favor, no te burles ¿acaso hablastes con mis padres? o es que...
Sabes quien soy? dime por favor, yo no lo se, solo me acuerdo el día que me case.
Tenia tres perros y un gato, recuerdo la flor azúl colgada en la ventana, el viento soplaba y ella se balanceaba, iba y venia ¿tu también lo recuerdas?¿estuvistes hay? mis padres no fueron, no los invite por que dañaron a mi muñeca ¿acaso no saben lo importante que era para mi? creo que a ellos no le importaba y la dejaron morir.
Desde ese día ya no vivo. solo respiro.
Hagamos algo no me delaten. si hay que matar a alguien maten a la perra esa, esa, la que me recetó estos putos medicamentos que me generaron esta terrible adicción. pero la supere. mi psiquiatra dice: tomate 50 mg cada día, puta!! Ya no soy quien soy ¿y quien soy?? Creo que la metafísica es basura y el cerebro una condena. Esta maldita ganas de razonar es lo que me llevaron a buscarte..
Espera, espera un momento mientras cuelo el café.. Quería escribir mi historia pero no se por donde empezar, escuchame, no tengo donde estar. ¿me darías trabajo? haré lo que sea. solo nesecito un hogar. limpiare cualquier baño por un poco de amor, puedo no se, si, si ya se, limpiare tus zapatos por un poco de atención.
Quieres ser mi amigo? los que tenia murieron hace años.
Que?
Solo hablo sola? ah!! verdad! ya lo traigo el café, ya va, ¿donde estoy? no lo se. ayudame a recordar, solo tomame la mano. seguro eso ayudara. la ultima vez que alguien me toco, no lo recuerdo.
Me estas viendo? solo veo miradas vacías, estraviadas, ¿papa estas ahí? si, si estas, que bien, acá te traigo café para que me hables de mi, dirás que es mi culpa, pero no lo es. Es solo que la sensibilidad me hierve, como agua para café..
Foto mía editada en PicsArt
Agradecimientos a @betavirosis por el separador
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