this is me
Una chica tan capaz de vencer cualquier obstáculo, una capaz de callar las bocas de quienes la critican y superar las expectativas de quienes la rodean, una chica capaz de ser invisible, pero al mismo tiempo tan radiante que no puedan soportar la luz que sobresale de ella. Tan callada y sumisa ante las adversidades, aunque de vez en cuando necesita gritar y sacar todo lo que lleva dentro, dolor, enojo, pesadillas. Todo de ella es impredecible, en un momento puede estar bien y en el otro comportarse de la manera más extraña del mundo; pocos logran descifrar con sus miradas lo que siente y no dice, lo que expresa con su silencio y no con sus palabras. Es difícil entenderla, pocas veces en su silencio noto algo que me llama la atención, pero a los segundos me invade con un cumulo de emociones contrarias; no sé si será un señuelo para no demostrar debilidad, para no demostrar miedo, para no demostrar que quiere rendirse. No es fácil ser ella, no es fácil tratar de tener mascara en una vida en lo que ya es común no mostrar su verdadero rostro, es tan común ocultar la realidad y sacar al aire la ficción. Duele tanto, llora tanto, ríe tanto y espera tanto; muchas veces se siente tan insegura de quien es, de lo que vale ser ella, de lo que se merece que cuestiona sus ideales, sus deseos en una hoja de papel en el cual escribe y después rompe. Nadie se parece a nadie; pero todos tenemos un poco de alguna otra persona. Esta soy yo Una escritora que plasma sus miedos, deseos y vivencias en una hoja de papel y que luego quema y deja volar las cenizas para que nadie sepa lo que siento, lo que vivo y sobre todo lo que quiero.
A girl so capable of overcoming any obstacle, one capable of silencing the mouths of those who criticize her and surpassing the expectations of those around her, a girl capable of being invisible, but at the same time so radiant that they cannot stand the light that shines out of her.
So quiet and submissive in the face of adversity, although from time to time she needs to scream and bring out everything she carries inside, pain, anger, nightmares. Everything about her is unpredictable, one moment she can be fine and the next she can behave in the strangest way in the world; few are able to decipher with her looks what she feels and does not say, what she expresses with her silence and not with her words.
It is difficult to understand her, rarely in her silence I notice something that catches my attention, but after a few seconds she invades me with an accumulation of contrary emotions; I do not know if it is a decoy not to show weakness, not to show fear, not to show that she wants to surrender.
It is not easy to be her, it is not easy to try to have a mask in a life in which it is already common not to show her true face, it is so common to hide the reality and air the fiction.
It hurts so much, she cries so much, laughs so much and hopes so much; many times she feels so insecure of who she is, of what she is worth being, of what she deserves that she questions her ideals, her desires on a piece of paper on which she writes and then tears it up. No one is like anyone else; but we all have a little bit of someone else.
This is me
A writer who captures her fears, desires and experiences on a sheet of paper and then burns and lets the ashes fly so that no one knows what I feel, what I live and above all what I want.
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