Journal

poema de Loca

I believe I am becoming my mother.
Perhaps life is showing me her life through mine
with the sole purpose of teaching me how hard it has
been and the origin of my entire existence.

So, my days have become very gloomy and Melancholicaly sad. And I suppose I indeed have been stipped off my happiness. The sad part is that it has become evident in the eyes of strangers, but somehow this has a purpose. Through the acknowledgement of my feeling by others, they are being impulsed to say somehting, and they are being whispered to give a drop of hope through words. And so, my broken organ slowly sews up less than a milimeter with every word of encouragement. Its not much, but it's enough to feel a bit better and to feel life's love curing me very slowly.

And now, how this actually happened. We met with this friend I hadnt seen in over a year. We spent the evening laughing at a cafeteria, and joking around. It was a bipolar atmosphere for me. The place was giving me anxiety, the city was making a hole in my stomach, the anticipation of a presence and possible comments made post meeting ans a millioon other thoughts was breaking me apart again, but i was having fun, coming back to the perosn i used to be through the joy these individuals shared in front of my eyes. I could not escape my feelings, but I was trying to simmer down their boil.

Fast forwards hours later when I am alone with my friend that I hang out more often with and he tells me I got a message from my friend from a year ago that read "And don't worry. Things happen and right now the time is your cure. As the time will fly, you will feel better", proceeded by "She looked sad. I felt like something was bothering her like emotionally".

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